Father and Son
by AshayamBeloved
Summary: When a mission results in a visit to Tatooine, Darth Vader never expected that he would be leaving with his six-month-old son. Now he must navigate through his past life and embracing his Sith title, whilst also contending with his newfound role as the father of a cheeky, stubborn and impulsive baby Luke, who can't seem to sit still for longer than five minutes. AU
1. A Fateful Mission

**Greetings all! I come bearing my first Star Wars fan fic! My favourite parts of the original trilogy have always been those between Luke and Vader, and I decided to try and explore how their relationship might have been had Vader raised his son from infancy. This story will span between Luke's babyhood to late childhood.**

 **I'll be the first to admit that I am definitely NOT a walking, talking Star Wars Encyclopaedia but I hope that you will enjoy this fic regardless.**

 **Enough with the chatter; I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars universe in any shape or form. It all belongs to George Lucas and now Disney too. The only things I own are any OC's or anything else my mind concocts as the story goes on.**

CHAPTER ONE

A FATEFUL MISSION

" _Our meeting was not a coincidence. Nothing happens by accident" - Qui-Gon Jinn_

In the sixth months that he had terrorised the galaxy as the Emperor's Second in Command,

Darth Vader's life had entered into a steady routine. Even if the setting changed, it still involved the following; _sleep, meditate, kill and torture those who oppose the Empire_ , on a continuous loop. It had been surprisingly easy to fall into the routine, compared to his laborious efforts to learn to live with his new armour and the limitations it placed on him. The habitual cycle of serving the Empire by destroying those who detested it had become strangely comforting. It required no other emotion but anger to fuel the Dark Side.

Therefore, Vader never imagined that a simple mission to capture a political traitor to the Empire would lead him to something truly extraordinary. Something life changing. Something that would change the galaxy forever.

"Our last report indicates that G'Arthes was heading towards the Outer Rim," Commander Stark informed the room. "Given the ease of accessibility for pilots and the possibility to blend in with a crowd, I believe that the most likely location he has chosen is Tatooine; the desert planet."

"There is also a chance that he might have landed on one of the other Outer Rim planets," Captain Leith piped up. "After all, it would be easier to hide on an otherwise uninhabited world or one that is not rampant with life. Selecting Tatooine and relying on the shelter of others who are already wanted criminals is basically signing his death warrant."

"No one ever said that G'Arthes was an intelligent man," said Commander Stark bluntly. "If he was, he would have never betrayed the Empire and sold highly classified material to our enemies. Fortunately, we know enough about the little traitor to know that he wouldn't be able to resist indulging in some illegal activities while he's in hiding too. He should consider himself lucky if we get to him first." He looked across the room. "What do you think, Lord Vader?"

The Sith Lord's tall, hulking figure stood in front of the window of the _Executor's_ bridge, gazing unseeingly into the distance. He didn't have the slightest doubt that the traitorous wretch was currently lurking in Tatooine; he could feel it through the Force. But the very thought of the desolate planet conjured up uncomfortable and unwanted emotions.

 _Slave…_

 _Mother…_

 _I abandoned you, mother…_

 _Slave…_

"Sir?" Commander Stark's voice penetrated through his dark thoughts. Vader placed his gloved hands on the window's ledge and observed a planet in the distance. Its surface was dark green and blue; so _lush_. Anakin had been so excited when he had seen grass for the first time in his life. He closed his eyes and no one could see the grim smile on the Sith Lord's face.

"Prepare coordinates at once, and have a shuttle ready for landing," Vader ordered coldly. "We will head to Tatooine and we will retrieve our wayward defector."

 **I...I**

The never-ending desert landscape hadn't changed since the last time Vader had visited the cursed planet. The sandy terrain quickly disappeared once they had landed in the Mos Eisley spaceport. The sight of an Imperial Shuttle had sent the port into a panicked state and the workers scattered away in fright or set about ensuring that the ship received a warm welcome. It pleased Vader immensely; it was nice to watch the Tatooine population cower in his presence instead of deeming him to be a worthless slave.

He was about to get to his feet when he felt a sudden disturbance in the Force. It caught Vader completely off guard and he sat back down again. The Sith Lord could sense _something_ or even someone he knew, but it was too far away to discern the source.

He was distracted by Captain Leith, who was standing in front of him.

"What are your orders, sir?" he asked.

"Check the town registry," Vader ordered Captain Leith. "I want a thorough search completed on each resident and on anyone who has visited the planet over the past three months."

"It might be difficult to source every visitor, sir. Being an Outer Rim Planet, they are most likely lax in their appraisal and logging of visiting ships and their passengers," Captain Leith pointed out.

"Which is why you and your men will make the difficult possible, Captain Leith," said Vader coolly. "Interrogate the spaceport's locals and workers, and use force if necessary. There will certainly be someone here who has the information we require. I expect a detailed report to be completed in three hours, _no_ exceptions."

"Yes, my Lord!" Captain Leith bowed his head and left the room, gesturing for some troopers to follow him. Once the nervous man had disappeared from sight, Vader walked over to the window and observed his surroundings. In all the time that Anakin had lived in Tatooine, he had never visited Mos Eisley. Of course, that was to be expected; after all, slaves never ventured outside of Mos Espa. The young Anakin Skywalker would have been awestruck by the sight of the variety of spaceships but Vader couldn't have cared less. After all, he had seen a far greater range of starships that put these pathetic vehicles to shame. However, there was a small part of him that remembered his past self's eagerness to escape the drudgery of slave-life and to escape Tatooine on one of those ships, no matter how inferior they were.

Vader shook his head and pushed those thoughts away with a violence he usually reserved for those he despised. They were symbolic of his past life and he refused to be a slave to them anymore. He focused instead on the task before him. Once the team he had sent returned, he would need to be prepared to quickly capture the rebel in question. In the meantime, he attempted to busy himself with paperwork, but that also proved to be impossible as that same strange presence he could feel in the Force seemed to be growing in strength.

To Captain Leith's credit, it took less than three hours for him and his troopers to return to the ship. He bowed before Vader, who had swiftly gotten to his feet at the Captain's arrival.

"You are early, Captain Leith," he commented. The man nodded nervously.

"It turned out that we were able to gather enough information to track G'Arthes' movements, my Lord." Leith handed him a stack of papers. "It took some 'persuasion' for the Chief in charge of the port to hand over the information we required; apparently he fled the scene upon our arrival. We finally tracked him down hiding in a cellar in one of the filthy taverns here."

"Have you studied the list for yourself?" questioned Vader, eyeing the dirty bundle of papers.

"Yes, sir. It appears that G'Arthes stated his purpose for visiting Mos Eisley was to establish trade with several of the moisture farms in the Great Chott salt flat region, which is located far east of this city."

Vader chuckled. Not only was G'Arthes a traitor, he was also a liar and a bad one at that. No doubt the man had hastily researched the planet before landing on Tatooine's surface and had discovered the importance of moisture farms. There were no possible means of developing partnerships with these farms, and apparently, the Chief in charge of Mois Eisley had been too dense to understand this or had been paid off to keep his mouth shut.

"Of course, it is extremely unlikely that G'Arthes is actually within the Great Chott region but we have managed to source information regarding the area," continued Captain Leith. "According to the head manager of _Chalmun's_ _Cantina_ , the largest and most profitable moisture farm belongs to a man named Owen Lars - "

 _Lars_ … _Lars_. All of a sudden, more unwanted memories began to flood Vader's mind; his mother's marriage to Cliegg Lars, her disappearance, finding her being tortured by a band of Tusken Raiders, her dying in his arms.

His merciless slaughter of the raiders following her death.

" - there are also nearby farms, but the Lars' farm is the most well-known within the region," he could vaguely hear Captain Leith talking. "There are few other settlements close-by - obviously the area is too far from the city - but apparently the closest is located in the Jundland Wastelands and belongs to some middle-aged hermit named Ben Kenobi - "

The Captain suddenly found himself being pulled forward and his neck was in Vader's tight grip in the space of two seconds.

"What did you just say?" the Sith Lord snarled. Although Leith could see nothing behind Vader's mask, he could imagine the terrifying look on the man's face.

"B-Ben K-en-obi, s-sir," he managed to choke out. Leith gasped in relief when Vader released him and he fell to the ground, massaging his throat and looking at the Sith Lord through frightened eyes.

Time seemed to stop and Vader felt as though the whole world was spinning around him. His shock was immediately overcome by rage and he wrenched his lightsaber from his belt. Leith thought Vader was going to cut his head cut off, but instead, the Sith Lord began to tear apart one of the seats in the shuttle's bridge. It was only when the furniture was reduced to cinders that he turned around again.

"Gather the troops, and ready yourself for take-off," he ordered calmly, as though the rage he has just inflicted on the seat had never occurred. Captain Leith nodded hastily and rushed to follow the Sith Lord's orders. It only took ten minutes for the troops to board and for the shuttle to take off. The rest of the ship's inhabitants kept a safe distance from the Sith Lord. Everyone knew when to engage Vader in conversation and, judging by the fingers that were flexing around the still activated lightsaber, no one was going to take the risk.

The disturbance he had felt in the Force now made perfect sense. Vader felt a fury that he hadn't experienced since Padmé's death boil inside him. There was no doubt that the middle-aged hermit was actually _Obi-Wan_ Kenobi. What was he doing on Tatooine? Why was he living in the Outer Rim? Vader guessed that it was to hide his existence from the Empire, but why TATOOINE of all places?

The Sith Lord thought of his step-brother, who was now apparently the head of the Lars' Moisture Farm. Were he and his wife in contact with his former Master? Vader couldn't see how the two could possibly be connected, but the close range of their homes was too suspicious to ignore. Was Obi-Wan trying to protect them? Vader snorted. The older man needn't have bothered; the Sith Lord hadn't thought of his step-brother since before the Clone Wars. He had had no wish back then to contact Owen and he certainly didn't now.

But WHY was Obi-Wan here?

Vader growled in frustration but an answer would soon present itself once he found his former Master. Then he would have the satisfaction of destroying the man, making sure to cut his legs off as Obi-Wan had done to him.

 **I...I**

 **First chapter done! I hope you all enjoyed and please let me know what you think!**


	2. A Disturbance in the Force

**Wow, I am so surprised and honoured by your reviews, favourites and follows thus far, and it was only the first chapter! You have no idea how much your support means to me so thank you from the bottom of my heart.**

 **On with chapter two!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars universe in any shape or form. It all belongs to George Lucas and now Disney too. The only things I own are any OC's or anything else my mind concocts as the story goes on.**

CHAPTER TWO

A DISTURBANCE IN THE FORCE

The shuttle was speeding across the desert landscape at maximum speed but to Vader it felt as though they were stuck in Coruscant traffic. As each second passed by, he could feel that a familiar presence growing stronger and he smiled. He knew that his former Master wasn't far away.

The rest of the shuttle's inhabitants had stationed themselves as far away from Vader as possible. He wasn't surprised; his outburst half an hour ago had been quite heated. Speaking of which; the Sith Lord glanced at the tattered remnants of what had once been a seat and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. Although he possessed an infamous temper, slashing things into oblivion with his lightsaber was not a normal method of venting his fury. Sure, things got thrown around with a mere flick of his hand or just by using his mind and people were Force-choked to death, but these days his lightsaber was solely used on the battlefield, NOT as a quick means of releasing his anger. Hell, it had never been an outlet BEFORE he had pledged his loyalty to Palpatine. Except...

Vader clenched his fists as he recalled the nineteen-year-old Anakin Skywalker slaughtering the Tuskan Raiders who had killed his mother. How he had relished the feeling of tearing them to shreds, at times repeatedly slashing at a body even after they had been killed. He now knew that he had been trying to further quench his thirst for revenge, even though his anger and hurt still rankled after all the Tuskan Raiders laid dead before his blazing eyes. Even though he had told Palpatine about the incident, Anakin hadn't divulged how he had murdered them. Giving into his anger had suddenly unleashed a power that he hadn't realised was simmering within his soul but the methods that he had used to murder his mother's killers hadn't made him proud. In fact, he had secretly felt that he was a mere boy throwing a tantrum. But the resentment he felt towards Obi-Wan overpowered that feeling of shame. If the Jedi Master hadn't dismissed his visions for long, he could have saved his mother!

Once he had become Vader, he had known that the instability of his powers wasn't going to help him focus and make him stronger, so instead he had dedicated himself to reigning in his anger and concentrating his fury through other means. It was amazing sometimes what cold intimidation could do.

But was that really the first time he had gone absolutely insane? Another memory surfaced, this time of a thirteen-year-old Anakin and Obi-Wan having yet another argument. The Padawan had been duelling with a training droid and was having difficulty concentrating due to his former Master's constant criticism of his technique. Anakin, in a fit of frustration and rage, had then thrashed the training droid to smithereens, kicked the damaged scrap pile and then hurled his still lit weapon across the room. Obi-Wan had confiscated his lightsaber after that and ordered him to spend the next week meditating on his actions that afternoon. He remembered how guilty and ashamed he had felt following some serious thinking and had given Obi-Wan a heartfelt apology, which his Master had accepted. But even years after that incident he had still battled with feelings of pent-up rage that he could barely control. Perhaps that was why Obi-Wan managed to beat him on Mustafar? The older man had kept his cool whilst Vader had allowed his fury to convince himself that he could make that leap up the hill.

It was all Obi-Wan's fault! The Sith Lord growled. Vader had worked so hard to forget his past life and now it was all coming back with full force. If the confounded man had been slaughtered just like the rest of his hypocritical, corrupt and evil Jedi friends, Vader wouldn't be speeding across the sand that he loathed so much and he wouldn't be reminiscing on his former, much weaker persona. He wouldn't be reflecting on past failures, he wouldn't be remembering the people who had betrayed him and he wouldn't be fighting back the emotions that had held him back for so many years.

Love was the weakness that had left him scarred and damaged for life on the banks of that lava river in Mustafar.

Not anymore. He now knew that there was no such thing as love and that the silly emotions he had felt for his wife and former Master were based on nothing but lies. The only thing that mattered in life was power and Vader was going to show Obi-Wan that the man had truly underestimated it.

Vader smiled coldly and flexed his fingers. It was time to have his revenge on the man who had dared to call him "his brother."

I…I

Obi-Wan Kenobi was _restless_.

It was strange, to say the least. Steadfast in his beliefs and adherence to the Jedi Code, Obi-Wan was calm, collected and patient. This was why he had been known as "The Negotiator" during the Clone Wars; his ability to solve disputes without the shedding of blood had been highly valued by both the Jedi Council and the Republic. Unlike his former Apprentice - who had been impulsive and always ready to fight - Obi-Wan had never leapt into action without considering the consequences and he didn't thrive on the battlefield. He had always preferred to spend his spare time meditating than practicing his lightsaber skills.

So why now, given the luxury of so much free time, did Obi-Wan feel as though he was going to lose his mind if he didn't use the lightsaber he had banished deep within a box in his hut soon?

The exiled Jedi Master sighed wearily as he sipped the blue milk from his cup and observed the Tatooine sky, the heat of the two sons scorching the desert landscape. Perhaps it was due to the inability of to utilise his once famed negotiating skills. There was no way he could put them to use on Tatooine; Obi-Wan was not going to settle disputes between criminals that matched each other in their immorality. The freedom to meditate and learning to communicate with his former Master Qui-Gonn was also satisfying, but not enough to relieve his desire to do SOMETHING constructive.

It was difficult to repress his sense of duty as a Jedi when he had only been one a mere six months prior.

Obi-Wan was just about go back inside when he suddenly felt a strange presence in the Force. He stopped dead in his tracks and focused on the sensation. The disturbance did not pass, so it clearly wasn't a fluke. Obi-Wan's eyes widened. He did not know _whom_ the source of the disturbance belonged to - it was too far away to discern it - but it was there, and there was no way in Malachor that he was going to risk ignoring it.

Obi-Wan flew into his hut, retrieved the lightsaber he had sworn to never use again and rushed outside, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. As he raced to harness his eopie here was only one thought that was playing on a continuous loop in his mind.

 _Get to Luke._

I…I

Vader sneered behind his mask as he observed the dirty hut that had evidently been "Ben" Kenobi's place of residence for the past six months. Of course, he shouldn't have expected anything else; no doubt his former Master considered himself to be acting nobly by choosing such a dive of a home. Plus, it was far removed from any of the sparse civilisation on this Force-forsaken planet.

The Sith Lord inspected the rest of the hut for himself, finding amusement in Obi-Wans pitiful existence following the fall of the Jedi Order. What would the famed "Negotiator" during the Clone Wars say if he knew what a pathetic old hermit he would become in only a few months time? Vader laughed coldly. Once again it proved the vast difference between the former Master and Padawan duo. Obi-Wan had been forced into hiding to escape the ever-increasing rule of the Empire, and Vader had become the most feared Sith Lord in the galaxy. It was clear who was the victor here.

The smirk on Vader's face disappeared as he recalled their battle on Mustafar.

" _It's over, Anakin! I have the high ground!"_

"Lord Vader?" He was distracted from his musings by a storm trooper's voice. The commander was waiting for the Sith Lord's orders, seeing that the wanted exiled Jedi had not been at home to greet his guests.

"Return to the shuttle," barked Vader. "I know exactly where he is heading."

The trooper nodded. "Yes, sir!" He exited the hut, shouting orders to the others. Vader took one last look at his surroundings before leaving, so focused on finding his former Master that he paid no heed to the open box lying near the couch.

I…I

It was too late. Obi-Wan knew that. He cursed himself for the minimalist lifestyle he had chosen to lead, which had left him void of a landspeeder. Now, as he watched the Imperial Shuttle fly up above in the late afternoon sun before landing close by, all he could do was wait for its passengers to disembark. There was no way that his faithful eopie could outrun this modern masterpiece of a vehicle.

Which meant that if he was going to save the Lars family, he would have to defeat the enemies lurking in the Imperial Shuttle right then and there.

Obi-Wan jumped off his steed and walked forward slightly. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and stretched out to the Force. It calmed and strengthened him; the exiled Jedi was ready for what was to come, and the source of the disturbance in the Force. He _knew_ who was on that ship now. There was no mistaking it.

The shuttle doors suddenly opened. Obi-Wan waited for the passenger he was expecting to disembark. It took only a few moments for a dark figure to appear. Obi-Wan observed the stature against the open door. The body was encased completely in heavy black armour, consisting of durasteel, plastoid and other materials. A long black cloak billowed behind as the figure walked and the hand that held the lightsaber was covered with a thick, black material. Obi-Wan could see some buttons in the middle of the suit's torso. The head was protected by a helmet, which was shaped at the top to resemble a skull, and was followed by a raised ridge.

The figure slowly walked forward before stopping approximately seven metres away from Obi-Wan. The exiled Jedi didn't need to see the body that was hiding beneath the heavy armour; he knew whom it belonged to.

There were a few moments of silence, broken only by the sound of the figure's deep, laboured breathing, before his former padawan spoke in a deep, artificial voice.

"Hello, my 'Master'."

 **I…I**

 **Eek! Hope you all enjoyed and please let me know what you think!**


	3. A Shocking Revelation

**Once again, I am speechless and blessed by your faith in my story; you guys keep me typing away furiously at my laptop and I cannot thank you enough.**

 **On with the story!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars universe in any shape or form. It all belongs to George Lucas and now Disney too. The only things I own are any OC's or anything else my mind concocts as the story goes on.**

CHAPTER THREE

A SHOCKING REVELATION

"Hello, 'my Master'."

"Hello, my 'old Padawan'," said Obi-Wan calmly. Silence reigned between them once again before he commented. "I am surprised to find you here. The last time I checked, you loathed your home planet."

"I was never planning on staying on this junk-pile, desert of a planet, old man," said Vader coolly. "It was my search for someone extremely important that led me here, so you can imagine my surprise when I discovered your existence in the Jundland Wastelands, and I know very well what the reason behind it is."

Obi-Wan's heart was beating frantically in his chest at Vader's words but he made answer lightly, "I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Vader."

"Do not lie to me!" snarled Vader. "You may have entrapped me with your Jedi falsehoods before but you never will again. I am more powerful than you ever could be!"

"That's not how I recall our last meeting," said Obi-Wan evenly. "If I remember correctly, I left you burning on the lava bank at Mustafar after you believed that you could make that leap. You overestimated your power then, and you are overestimating it now. When will you learn the value of humility, my old Padawan?"

Snarling again, Vader pulled out his lightsaber but he did not ignite it. "You may have left me to die but _you_ were the one who underestimated my power and the Dark Side of the Force. The Emperor found and saved me, reconfiguring my body into something far greater than it ever was."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think the Emperor saved you? Because he cares about you? He saved you because he needed an Apprentice and because your current situation suited his plans well." He studied the heavily armoured body before him. "He has done a very good job too, by the looks of it."

"What is that supposed to mean, Obi-Wan?" demanded Vader.

The exiled-Jedi shrugged. "Only that you are now physically impaired to overpower him. Look at yourself, Vader." He gestured at the Sith Lord's chest. "You are more man than machine now, unable to rely on what was once your incredible physical prowess and instead being forced to protect your life support systems. You cannot honestly tell me that you have taken to your new body easily. You must be in pain, in both the flesh and brain -"

"Shut up, Kenobi," hissed Vader.

"It is possible that your new body could have been reconfigured to be more comfortable and relatively pain-free, but it wasn't Palpatine's intention to save you the physical pain. He wanted you to be in agony so that it would further fuel your anger. Anger spurned by the pain in your body and the terrible actions you have taken since you took on your new Sith persona. Tell me, Vader; has the Emperor asked how you are adjusting to your new suit?"

"Shut UP!"

"Of course, he hasn't. Because he doesn't actually _care._ " Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. "One day you will realise this, my old Padawan. But by then, it will be too late."

"SILENCE!" Vader roared. The truth behind Obi-Wan's words was too raw and painful to listen to. "I grow weary of your mind games, Kenobi. I just had to drop by and say hello to my old Master," Vader ignited his lightsaber, "and goodbye. Only this time it is _I_ that shall watch you suffer in agony during your final moments."

Obi-Wan took out his own lightsaber and ignited it too. "We'll see about that." Former Master and Padawan gazed at each other before Vader lunged forward with a growl, this time determined to best the man who had betrayed him.

I...I

Beru was a woman who enjoyed the simple pleasures in life, and the one she enjoyed the most was singing her six-month-old nephew to sleep. Unfortunately, Luke had been particularly fussy that afternoon, and no song seemed to placate him.

"Sshh, it's OK," she murmured into his ear as she rubbed his back comfortingly. The young woman was certain that Luke's incessant screaming could be heard even in Anchorhead. She had never known another human being to be so vocal.

Luke, who had been crying nonstop for two hours straight, showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. It was unbelievable that a baby could produce so many tears; Owen had once joked that they should just give up harvesting moisture from the air and bottle their step-nephew's tears instead. At the rate Luke had been going for the past few months, they'd be able to live off the income for a solid twelve months.

Then again, they had to spend so much money on bantha milk to feed him that it would all be for nothing. Luke was, without a doubt, the greediest, most ravenous being in the entire galaxy.

"I am _not_ giving you any more milk, you hungry little Eopie calf," she told the baby sternly. Luke's lip quivered and he continued to wail into her shoulder. She couldn't see Luke's arm reaching out behind her back, as though he was trying to grasp onto something that wasn't there.

Beru glanced at the door warily before looking down at her nephew. "How about I sing your favourite song? Just don't tell your Uncle, OK?" It might have been just her imagination but Luke seemed to quieten a tad at her question. She smiled before singing softly;

" _Twinkle, twinkle, little star._

 _How I wonder what you are._

 _Up above the world so high._

 _Like a diamond in the sky._

 _Twinkle, twinkle, little star._

 _How I wonder what you are."_

As she had hoped, Luke immediately settled down and fell into a deep sleep, his face snuggled into her neck as he drooled against the skin there.

"I really wish you would stop singing that song, I really do," said an irritated voice from the doorway. Owen was leaning against the frame with a disapproving expression on his face. "What if it gives him ideas?"

Beru resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "He's _six-months-old_ , Owen. What do you think he's going to do; crawl into a spacecraft and jet off across the galaxy? He doesn't even know what his nose is!"

"I know," groaned Owen. He walked over to them and gave the baby a fond smile. "Still, surely there is a song that you can come up with that involves the planet we _live_ on."

"I really don't think that a lullaby about womp-rats and sand-people is a good idea. What if it gives him ideas and he joins a Tusken Raider colony, or he develops an appetite for dirty Tatooine pests?" teased Beru, her mouth twitching.

"Ha, ha," grumbled Owen, before adding begrudgingly, "although I must say it is nice to have some peace and quiet for once. We might even get some sleep tonight." He smirked at his wife. "Or maybe none at all."

Beru giggled. "We'll see." Owen winked at her and leant down to kiss his wife. Neither of them noticed that the sleeping Luke was still reaching out behind his step-aunt's back, trying to clutch onto something that the baby couldn't see but could _feel._

I…I

They fought as harshly and violently as they had on Mustafar. Only this time they weren't surrounded by rivers of molten lava, but the hot Tatooine suns still blistered Obi-Wan's skin and clouds of sand engulfed his eyes. Once again, Vader had the upper hand to start with and although his duelling style had changed due to his cumbersome new attire, he was just as furious and aggressive as he had been before he was suited. Obi-Wan's fighting style hadn't changed and Vader knew it, so he took advantage of that knowledge.

Unfortunately for Obi-Wan, he wasn't accustomed to his former Padawan's new duelling style and he had not considered this before Vader had launched at him. This meant that he was forced to constantly rethink his technique each time the Sith Lord struck at him. This problem, combined with the harsh Tatooine environment that he had yet to be fully accustomed to, made it exceedingly difficult for Obi-Wan to gain the upper hand that he had achieved on that lava bank during their last duel.

But he refused to back down and he continued to defend himself and to once again have the high ground. Not for himself but for the tiny baby he had sworn to protect and whom Vader had evidently discovered his existence. The Sith may have found out that he had a son, but he was _not_ leaving this planet with Luke in tow so that he could corrupt the child with evil intentions and mould him into a second Vader.

Obi-Wan refused to lose the only hope that the galaxy had.

"Your defence is weak, Kenobi," said Vader coldly, swinging his lightsaber at his former Master's head. Obi-Wan quickly dodged the blade and thrust it towards Vader's shoulder. The Sith Lord grimaced in pain as the blade grazed his skin but his armour was too thick for the lightsaber to have much effect.

"It is YOU who is weak, Vader," said Obi-Wan. Their blades continued to clash together. "I notice that you brought your subordinates with you. Why is that? Do you wish for backup should you fail to best me?"

Vader laughed mockingly. "No, this is between you and me, 'Master'." He swung at Obi-Wan's arm but the Jedi dodged it. Obi-Wan flipped into the air, knowing very well that his former Padawan could no longer perform such acrobatics in his current physical situation. However, Vader had been practising his defences against such attacks and he dodged the blade that went to swipe across his head. As Obi-Wan readied himself to thrust his lightsaber at Vader again, the Sith Lord swooped his cloak roughly in the breeze, causing a wave of sand to blind Obi-Wan's vision. The Jedi barely had a chance to yelp in pain at the action before Vader swiftly plunged his lightsaber into Obi-Wan's stomach.

"This really is the end for you, my Master," he growled into Obi-Wan's ear.

The exiled-Jedi slumped to the ground, his eyes blown wide open in shock and pain. Vader leant over him, examining the dying Obi-Wan through blank eye sockets. The older man could sense the triumph and hatred in the Sith Lord's yellow pupils.

"He will never really be yours," Obi-Wan whispered. "He will not be your toy to destroy. And he will never become you. I will make sure of it."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Vader. Although no one could see it, there was a completely confused expression on his face beneath his helmet.

If Obi-Wan could have felt anything other than the agony in his stomach, it would have been the painful throbbing of his heart. So, Vader hadn't even known. His attempts to save Luke had been in vain. Obi-Wan had failed.

" _I'm sorry, Luke,"_ were his last words before he felt his life ebb away. The last thing he saw was his former Padawan's black helmet - the sunlight glinting off its edges - before he disappeared and entered another dimension.

I…I

Vader stood as though rooted to the ground as he stared at the spot that his now deceased former Master had vanished. Obi-Wan was dead. Killed by the Sith Lord's own blade.

Finally, he had gotten his revenge.

So why, beneath all of the triumph and cold satisfaction that he was feeling at that moment, was there a small undercurrent of regret?

He stood still for a while, reflecting on Obi-Wan's death before heading back to the shuttle. For once the sight of troopers and Imperial officers trembling in his wake did not conjure any enjoyment; he was too busy contemplating the Jedi's final words.

 _"He will never really be yours."_

 _"He will not be your toy to destroy."_

" _He will never become you."_

" _I'm sorry, Luke."_

It felt as though the pieces of an enormous and incredibly complex puzzle were being put together. As he began to solve the puzzle, Vader's hands clenched forcefully. It wasn't possible. There was _no_ way it could be true. And yet…

"Sir?" a timid voice broke through the mental fog that was clouding his brain right now and was causing the shuttle windows to tremble ominously from his anger. Captain Leith stood behind him, looking incredibly nervous. Clearly, he was praying that he wouldn't be Force-choked again.

Vader made to respond but he couldn't bring himself to. He closed his eyes and searched his feelings. It seemed ridiculous but it still made sense. This was why Obi-Wan had been hiding out on this Force-forsaken planet; he was protecting someone from the Empire and that someone was also being protected by the people Vader had once known in a previous life…

"Shall we continue searching for G'Arthes again?" Captain Leith squeaked. The shuttle's occupants flinched as several objects shuddered around them, brought on by the Sith Lord's rage. Vader paused for a moment, unable to speak due to his fury, before finally shaking his head.

"No, not yet." He walked to the window, observing the slight cracks that his anger had inflicted on the glass and looked out towards the horizon. "There is someone that I need to catch up with first."

 **I…I**

 **Noooo, Obi-Wan is dead! But perhaps he will still be a part of this story (though I can't give anything away yet). I hope you all enjoyed it and please let me know what you think!**


	4. A New Purpose in Life

**Being bedridden does have its advantages; one being that I have time to update this story! Plus, it's super rewarding to update when I have such amazing followers as you guys are.**

 **I realised that I accidentally posted a tid-bit of this chapter in the last one (idiot = me). Here's the FULL chapter now.**

 **I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars universe in any shape or form. It all belongs to George Lucas and now Disney too. The only things I own are any OC's or anything else my mind concocts as the story goes on.**

CHAPTER FOUR

A NEW PURPOSE IN LIFE

The two suns were beginning to set on the Lars farm, bathing the homestead in shades of deep gold and red. Husband and wife lay fast asleep on their bed while their young nephew dozed peacefully in the crib beside them. It had been three hours of uninterrupted bliss for Owen and Beru, and they had made the most of it.

So engrossed they were in the peace and tranquillity of the afternoon that they did not notice that their nephew had begun to wake and was once again reaching his hand out to grasp thin air.

I…I

As Vader exited the Imperial Shuttle, he felt a sudden pull towards the Lars homestead that had made him stop in his tracks. He couldn't quite figure out what had caused it. Perhaps it was the Force, the harshness of Tatooine's environment or simply just the stress of the day that had caused this strange feeling, but whatever it was it made Vader suddenly hold his arm out as though to grab something that didn't even exist.

"What are your orders, sir?" queried Leith, observing their surroundings. He had no idea what on earth the Sith Lord was doing at this dive of a farm, but he knew better than to question it. Commander Stark stood beside him, also looking perplexed.

Vader studied his outstretched arm in confusion for a moment before replying. "I want all troops to follow me. There are two persons of interest inside and I do NOT want them to be harmed until I say so. I…" He looked down at his arm again "They have some very important information that I need. Do NOT fire at them without my consent. _Is that understood_?"

"Yes, my Lord!" Leith bowed his head and began to bark orders to the Stormtroopers.

I…I

Beru was woken by her husband's hand shaking her shoulder wildly.

"Owen?" she asked in sleepy confusion.

"Someone's here!" he hissed.

"Then put some clothes on and welcome them," suggested Beru, snuggling back against the pillow.

"Beru!" Owen shook her harder. "They're already inside! I heard them kick the door down!"

THAT got Beru's attention and she immediately flew out of bed, donned her clothes and grabbed Luke, who immediately started screaming.

"What are we going to do?" she asked in terror, wrapping Luke up in blankets while trying to hush him at the same time.

"Wait here!" Owen had fully dressed and grabbed his rifle from underneath the bed. "Push the bed against the door so they can't get in." He exited the room. Beru stood as though paralysed but before she could put Luke down and think to move the bed, the door slammed open. A tall, heavily armoured figure stood in the doorway with his face masked by a black helmet. His breathing was loud and deep as he looked in her direction. Her eyes widened in realisation and her hand flung to the back of Luke's head.

"No," she whimpered. "Please no…"

"I believe you have some questions to answer," said Vader coldly. He observed the screaming bundle of blankets that Beru was clutching desperately. Not that the Sith Lord needed to hear or even see what was encased within the material, nor did he require the information he had received from Obi-Wan only seconds before his former Master's death. Within that small bundle lay a tiny human whom Vader had long since thought died in his wife's womb. He could _sense_ it; it was an inexplicable feeling that he couldn't quite comprehend but it was there, and Vader couldn't deny it. Even though the knowledge wasn't welcome.

"You can't take him!" Beru screamed. She tucked the baby even tighter to her chest and looked at Vader through wild eyes. "He's not yours!"

"So I have been told," said Vader stonily, still gazing at the screaming bundle of blankets. "But I want answers, Beru Lars, and I want them _now_." He finally tore his gaze away from the baby and glowered at the woman holding the infant. "I'm sure that even a moisture farmer's wife can fathom how one would feel if they had to make a brief stopover on their home planet, only to find out that their former Master and the Jedi most wanted by the Empire hiding out in the desolate Junklands."

"I-" Beru could only whimper in fear.

"Of course, it didn't take long to figure out that Kenobi was protecting you and your pathetic farm," continued Vader, ignoring her. He looked down at the blankets again. "Now I want to know _why_ and _how_ you believed you could keep this secret from myself AND the Empire?"

"It…Obi-Wan wanted to protect Luke," stammered Beru. "He wanted to protect him from YOU!"

"Oh?" Vader tilted his head to the side. "Well he has certainly done a fine job of that, hasn't he?"

"You…you'd better leave before he gets here," Beru threatened, even as her voice quivered with fear. "He…he will make you wish you had never been born!"

Vader laughed mockingly. "You are referring to the man whom I have just slaughtered only an hour and a half ago?" At Beru's horrified expression, he chuckled again. "Yes, the guardian you seek has met his end by my lightsaber. Your husband is currently being held by my troopers in the courtyard of this garbage dump that you call a farm."

In any other situation, Vader would have savoured the horror and fear in the woman's eyes as she realised the cold truth of her situation. However, he was becoming more and more entranced with the bundle of blankets in Beru's arms. It elicited a feeling that he had never experienced, or perhaps one that he hadn't felt since he had rid himself of his former identity. His need to uncover the person beneath the fabric was in conflict with his desire to simply leave and forget that this entire day had never occurred, so that he wouldn't have to deal with the uncomfortable human emotions that were beginning to brew inside of him. Brewing so quickly that, for the first time in six months, Vader was _frightened_.

The Sith Lord ignited his lightsaber and stalked towards Beru. The woman's eyes widened and she curled up into a ball, the blankets still grasped firmly in her arms.

"No. Please _no_!" she sobbed.

"Relinquish the child and I might consider sparing your life," Vader warned. He couldn't understand WHY he was offering such a compromise. After all, there wasn't the slightest doubt that he would have to kill the baby, regardless of the fact the child was…

"I can't!" Beru wept. She nuzzled her head against the blankets. "I love him. He is like my son!"

' _But he isn't!'_ thought Vader, and he felt a strange sort of possessive anger. Possessive of someone he didn't even know. Suddenly a repressed memory stirred within the Sith Lord, of Anakin Skywalker was lying in bed with his pregnant wife.

 _The Jedi placed his hand on Padme's rounded belly before leaning down and kissing it gently._

" _Can you tell if it's a girl or a boy?" queried Padme._

 _Anakin laughed. "I'm sorry, but even the 'Chosen One's' powers aren't that strong." He smiled at his wife. "But what I DO know is that I love our baby already. Boy or girl, it's gonna have me wrapped around its little finger!"_

The memory only served to anger him more. Vader raised the lightsaber and pointed it at Beru's tear-stained face.

"Give me the child or you will die!" he snarled. There was a moment of silence, broken only by Vader's breathing and the baby's screaming before the sound of blaster guns echoed from outside. It was enough to break Vader's concentration and his anger was now directed at his troopers, who had been FIRMLY ordered not to open fire until he said to. Unfortunately, his momentary lapse in concentration allowed Beru a brief chance of escape and she raced outside.

"NO!" Vader yelled. He raced after her, Force-throwing items out of his way. But the moment she had stepped foot onto the courtyard and blaster shots hit her body and she fell to the ground.

The Sith Lord stared at her prone body then looked at the troopers and Captain Leith who was standing behind them. Vader clenched his fist and the man immediately started gasping for air.

"My Lord!" he squeaked, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head and his face bright red from lack of oxygen.

"I ordered you NOT TO OPEN FIRE UNTIL I COMMANDED YOU TO!" Vader roared, clenching his gloved fist even harder. Leith choked for air once more before collapsing into a heap on the ground beside the deceased Owen, who had obviously been the victim of the first wave of shots. Vader Force-threw two Stormtroopers across the yard as a means of relieving his anger but it did nothing to quench his rage.

He turned from his cowering troops and Commander Stark (who was eyeing Leith's dead body apprehensively) and looked down at the body before him. His concern was not for her; it was for what she had been protecting.

And that had fallen strangely quiet now.

Vader felt as though the world was spinning around him and he crouched beside the woman, whose lifeless eyes were gazing in his direction. Beru couldn't have survived the barrage that had torn through her so there was no possible way that…

With hands that were shaking against his will, Vader gently rolled the lifeless Beru onto her back, unravelled the blanket she had been clutching onto and looked into his son's eyes for the very first time.

Vader suddenly found it impossible to stand again, so entranced he was by the baby beneath him. He simply stayed on his knees by Beru's side, gazing at his son in complete shock.

"Lord Vader?"

Commander Stark sounded incredibly nervous. No doubt he was fearing that he would meet the same fate as his fallen colleague. At that moment, Vader couldn't have cared less about those around him; alive or dead. All that mattered was the baby who was staring back at him.

Vader shook himself out of his stupor and looked up at Stark.

"Take this child," he ordered. Vader couldn't bring himself to carry a baby, out of both shock, internal conflict regarding his emotions and the concern of accidentally crushing his son's skull in his powerful hands. "Keep him safe for the rest of our mission then bring him to the _Executor's_ medical bay."

When Commander Stark gawked at him in confusion, Vader growled, "Do you have a problem with my orders, Commander?"

Stark blinked owlishly and quickly shook his head. "Not at all, sir!" He knelt down beside Vader and gingerly picked up the baby, who immediately started screaming at the stranger's touch.

"Careful, you fool!" snapped Vader, terrified that the man had hurt his son. Stark inclined his head, gestured at his troops to return to the shuttle and walked away (carrying the baby with the awkwardness of a person who has never held one in his life), leaving the still stunned Sith Lord to gather his composure and to let the reality of the situation settle in.

He couldn't see how he would ever get used to the fact that he was now a _father_.

I…I

"I just don't understand, Lord Vader."

Emperor Palpatine's hologram shook his head as he spoke to his loyal servant from his throne at the Imperial Palace. Although the _Executor_ was only two days away from arriving on Coruscant, Vader had deemed it wise to inform his Master of Luke's existence before they saw each other in the flesh. He didn't want Palpatine to believe that his Apprentice was hiding things from him; it would make the argument to keep his son even more difficult than it already was.

"I simply believe that it is a waste potential opportunity," said Vader. He was attempting to appear as nonchalant as possible. It would not do for his Master to believe that his motivation for taking the boy was laced with a strange and unwelcome emotion not acceptable in the Dark Side of the Force. "He is a blank canvas to work with. One that I can mould into a powerful Sith apprentice."

"And what possible value could he be if he is not Force-sensitive?" queried Palpatine impatiently.

"There are many alternative paths for him to follow that will contribute to the ever-growing power of the Empire," said Vader quickly, who had known that his Master's main concern would be whether Luke's existence could be beneficial in the slightest. "If he is nurtured and raised within the Imperial Palace, he could become an influential poster-child for the Empire."

"A poster child for the Empire?" asked Palpatine curiously. Vader knew that the Emperor was now interested.

"A means of enticing young men to join the army," Vader continued. "A young and charismatic celebrity of sorts. Even if he isn't Force-sensitive, he could become an Admiral in the Imperial Forces and an advertisement for recruitment. He could even become a politician, whose reputation is backed by the support of the love and admiration of the public. The possibilities are endless."

The Emperor pondered this for a moment. "An astute observation." He tented his fingers and studied his apprentice. "Do you really believe that you can achieve this?"

Vader bowed his head. "I promise you, Master, that in eighteen years time, either a loyal and powerful Sith Apprentice, future politician or Grand Admiral will kneel before you and pledge his lifelong allegiance to the Empire."

"And if he doesn't?" asked Palpatine coolly.

"I will kill him myself," answered Vader bluntly.

"Hmm..." The Emperor observed him for a moment before sighing, "I am afraid that your son will stand in the way of your duties, or even sway the beliefs that keep the galaxy in order."

"My hatred for the Republic and those who rebel against us remains as strong as ever, Master, and always shall," said Vader at once. "No child shall ever change my beliefs or tear me away from my commitments. The Empire shall always come first."

"There is something suspicious in all of this," said Palpatine sceptically. He continued to scrutinise his apprentice. Vader knew that the Emperor was searching for any kind of hidden motivation behind his argument. "Why do you _really_ want to raise the boy? I am afraid that you are not the best candidate for parenthood, my friend. After all, your anger has already been the cause of his mother's death. How can you be so sure that you won't do the same to him?"

Vader flinched and he looked down at his right arm, remembering how he had used it to choke Padmé on Mustafar. But he knew that Palpatine was trying to find a weakness in his argument so he pushed aside his guilt and said resolutely. "It is not my plan to parent through emotion, Master. My goal is to foster and nurture the child's inherent skills and abilities so that he will be a valuable asset to both you and the Empire. I sense something in him and I believe he is destined for great things."

' _Like assisting me in destroying you and usurping your position,'_ Vader secretly thought to himself. The idea made his fingers tingle with relish. But he couldn't allow the Emperor to guess one of the reasons why he was intent on raising his son. He stood before his Master and waited anxiously for his answer.

"Very well," Palpatine finally conceded. "If you really believe that you can create a powerful asset through this, you may raise the boy." He looked at his apprentice through narrowed eyes. "However, I wish to remain informed of his progress throughout the years and to meet with him from time to time. If I sense a clear lack potential or any dangerous traits, he shall be destroyed at once."

"And I will do the deed myself, Master," promised Vader, even as he tightly shielded his relief at his Master's acceptance of the situation.

Palpatine waved him away. "You are excused, my friend." Vader bowed once more and ended the transmission, thankful that his armour hid the relieved expression on his face.

I…I

When Vader entered the _Executor's_ medical bay an hour later, he was greeted by the undeniable sound of infantile screeching that set his teeth on edge. A medic was walking back and forth, bouncing Luke on her hips and dangling some kind of toy in the baby's face in an attempt to calm him down. Evidently, her efforts were in vain.

"Why is he screaming so loudly?" Vader demanded. The staff nearly jumped out of their skins at the sound of the Sith Lord's voice. "Is he sick?"

"N-no, my Lord," the medic stammered. She felt like crawling into a hole as Vader stared at her as though she would be choked to death if she failed to pacify his son. "He has been fed, changed and we have performed a routine examination and have found nothing."

"Then _why_ is he crying as though he has been subjected to an interrogation droid?" said the Sith Lord impatiently. Luke's scream seemed to be increasing in volume with each passing second, and no doubt it would spread throughout the entire ship at this rate.

"It isn't anything serious, my Lord," the medic hastily assured him. She clutched the baby to her chest and rubbed his back in a soothing manner. "I'm afraid that he is just at a difficult stage."

"What is that supposed to mean?" queried Vader. "Is anyone here going to give me an actual answer?"

This time it was a medical droid who piped up, "Sometimes there appears to be no simple cause for a baby's crying and, at his age and without information regarding how he was comforted from birth, it can be hard to understand his discomfort. Of course, sometimes…" he trailed off.

"Sometimes _what_?" snapped Vader, now extremely frustrated.

"Perhaps he needs the comfort of his parent?" the medic holding Luke suggested in a small voice.

Vader gaped at her, although the medical staff could not see this beneath his mask. "Do you really think that's wise?" The Sith Lord could imagine the baby being squished to death from his heavy armour.

"It - it's just that a mother or father provide the safety and reassurance that a stranger can't," explained the medic, raising her voice to contend with Luke's screaming.

"But…" Vader gave the baby a blank look "…he doesn't even know me."

"Maybe not, but sometimes they can just _sense_ it." The medic smiled at him. "At this rate, I believe it may be the only option - my Lord," she quickly added.

Vader didn't see how the tiny baby could possibly find comfort in the arms of a terrifying Sith Lord, who donned a scary black helmet and breathed as though his lungs were close to imploding (which wasn't far from the truth), but he couldn't come up with a better solution to the conundrum.

He sighed, nodded stiffly and held out his hands slightly. "How do I hold-"

"Like this, sir." The medic carefully placed the crying baby in Vader's arms and rearranged them so that the Sith Lord was carrying him on his hip. She quickly let go once she was sure Luke was safe and retreated back into the shadows. Being so close to the Sith Lord was enough to make her nearly pass out.

To Vader's utter disbelief, the baby immediately stopped screaming. Luke looked up at him with curious blue eyes.

Anakin's eyes.

"Hello there," Vader greeted awkwardly. Luke continued to study him with interest, clearly not perturbed by his father's somewhat frightening appearance. He was possibly the only being in this galaxy who didn't cower in his presence.

The Sith Lord tore his gaze away from his son to see that the two medics were staring at him.

"What?" he snapped.

"Nothing!" They scurried away, no doubt fleeing for their lives. Vader snorted and returned his attention to his son. Son... Vader still couldn't get his head around it.

He studied the baby he was holding in his arms. Luke was only six months old and already Vader could see the resemblances between him and his son. Aside from their blue eyes, there was a tiny film of blonde hair on his Luke's head and even their chins looked similar. There were also traces of Padme too, although barely noticeable. Vader knew that the boy would grow up to be Anakin's double.

He frowned at the thought and pushed it aside. He had spent six months working to push aside his past and move forward into his new life but now all that hard work was crumbling around him because of the diminutive being nestled in his arms. How could one insignificant creature create so much stress and drama?

 _'Because said creature isn't insignificant',_ his mind answered _. "He's your son."_

He remembered the words the Emperor had spoken to him only an hour ago. How on earth could he raise a baby? Palpatine was right; he wasn't cut out to be a parent. Not even Anakin could have handled this on his own. Padmé would have been the perfect mother and would have made up for what was lacking in their child's father. But now, thanks to Vader, she was no longer there and he was forced to embrace parenthood by himself. He began to feel angry; at Padmé, at Obi-Wan, the Force, Palpatine but mostly at himself. For the first time since he had embraced the Dark Side, Vader felt remorseful for his actions.

But that feeling of repentance quickly subsided as he pondered his new duty in his already extremely stressful life. He made a vow to raise his son and protect him to the best of his ability, and he was never going to back out of that promise. He had helped to conceive the child and had brought him to the galaxy's attention, and if he failed in his role as Luke's protector, the boy would have to die and _he_ would be the one to kill him. There was no way he would hurt someone close to him _ever again_.

Possessed by a sudden impulse, Vader raised a gloved finger and booped the baby's nose. Luke's mouth curved upwards and he burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles. It was so infectious that Vader couldn't help but laugh too. He was thankful that there were no witnesses to this private moment, as he would have had to Force-choke them to keep them quiet.

"So, here we are then?" he said wearily. Vader shook his head again. "A cold-hearted, murdering, terrifying Sith Lord; now a parent to a fragile, giggling and innocent baby. Who in this galaxy could have ever predicted this?"

As they looked into each other's eyes, Vader suddenly felt as though he was seeing into his son's soul. He could sense Luke's exhaustion from being suddenly taken away from the security of home and finding himself in a new environment surrounded by strangers. But he could also detect feelings of amusement from his father's playful antics and how safe Luke was in his father's arms. In return, Luke's intense eyes seemed to pierce through Vader's own soul, and the Sith Lord suddenly felt uncomfortable and unprotected. It was as though all his heavy armour and cold, angry demeanour had been stripped away and that the baby could somehow see him as someone Vader never wanted to be again.

But when Luke's eyes closed and he fell asleep in his father's suited arms, Vader suddenly felt completely at peace for the first time since he had pledged allegiance to Palpatine and taken on his new persona as a Sith Lord. He smiled at his slumbering son and held him tighter to his chest.


	5. A New Life

**Pancreatitis recovery = more time to write! To quote the Life of Brian; "Always look on the bright side of life! (cue whistling)". Thank you everyone for your support and reviews; you make this sick girl incredibly happy. I've got a massive week ahead so here's a super long chapter to tide you over until the next update.**

 **On with Chapter Five and please let me know what you think!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars universe in any shape or form. It all belongs to George Lucas and now Disney too. The only things I own are any OC's or anything else my mind concocts as the story goes on.**

CHAPTER FIVE

A NEW LIFE

Even at the age of six months, Luke's mind was a land of constant thinking. While he was obviously too young to contemplate philosophical questions (and if one ever did, it would be 'the 'how and why of food'), he was always in a state of learning and making sense of the strange world around him. Therefore, the new landscape he was surrounded by intrigued him to no end; it was a far cry from the hot, quiet and sandy world he had known for most of his young life. It was cold and sometimes very noisy, and at first, he had been frightened and confused by his new surroundings. The strangers who held him scared him too. They weren't the same people whom he had clung to for so long and he didn't feel safe in their arms.

Yes, he had been petrified of everything at first but that was until he had found himself cradled in the arms of someone new but whom he had never felt so safe. Ever since then, Luke had become to emerge from his shell, and his mind began to explore the new sights, sounds and smells around him in interest. But he still longed for that familiar touch, whose texture felt so strange and different but never failed to soothe him.

Luke hadn't experienced that comforting feeling much; it only seemed to occur now and then, and he missed it dearly when it wasn't there. He was about to miss it even more when he found himself being lifted out of his makeshift cot by someone familiar but not liked by Luke.

He couldn't understand the words being said above him, and it wouldn't have made the situation any better if he could.

"The Imperial City doctor said that he needs a tiny dose of Malaxin to prevent any illness he may have picked up in space," a medic explained to her colleague. "Luke's come from an isolated planet with high temperatures and no known viruses, so his immune system will need to be built up in the meantime. It's fortunate that we carry Malaxin on-board in case of emergencies."

"What dosage did he state?" queried the second medic, filling a syringe.

"0.5ml." Elisa carried Luke to a bench and placed him on his stomach. Naturally, there had never been a need to carry baby clothes on board the _Executor_ , so Luke had been living in makeshift diapers for the entire duration of their trip back to Coruscant. "He said to inject it in his right thigh." She looked at her colleague grimly. "Brace yourself for the subsequent screaming."

"I look forward to it," Aren chuckled darkly. He placed the syringe on the baby's soft skin and quickly injected the serum into Luke's leg. Both medics cringed at the expected howling that ensued.

"I have never met a more vocal creature in my life." The female medic held Luke against her shoulder and rubbed his back comfortingly. "I never thought that I'd pray for the day to have Lord Vader walk into the medical bay; Luke immediately shuts up when he's around."

"I never that I'd SEE the day that Lord Vader would walk into the medical bay to check on his _son_." Aren shook his head in disbelief. "I still can't believe it."

"Neither can I." Elisa lifted Luke up and down in the air in a vain attempt to calm him down. "And I can't understand the mechanics of how it happened. I mean, come on…"

Aren sniggered. "I know, right? I don't know what happened to the guy but he must have been able to procreate at some stage. Can you imagine him doing it _now_?" They both broke into hysterical laughter.

"I am glad that you both somehow have the time to laugh maniacally while my son is screaming incessantly," a deep and icy voice spoke from the doorway. The medics nearly jumped out of their skin and they hastily spun around to find Lord Vader walking over to them, with such speed that they both had to resist the urge to run away. The Sith Lord's breathing was overshadowed by the sound of Luke's crying.

"What is wrong with him this time?" he demanded impatiently. It seemed as though every time Vader entered the medical bay, Luke was screaming as though his life depended on it.

"N-nothing different than normal, m-my Lord," stammered Elise. She handed Luke over to Vader and did her best to ensure that their hands did not touch. "We've just had to give him a n-needle-"

"Why on earth did you subject him to a needle?" snapped Vader, immediately imagining his son being tortured by an interrogation droid.

"Doctor's orders, sir," Aren quickly spoke on Elise's behalf. He pointed at Luke's leg. "He said that Luke required a shot of Malaxin - it's an immunity-boosting medicine - before he reaches Coruscant to ward off any illnesses he might have contracted either here or soon after he arrives. He comes from a planet with no known illnesses, you see-"

"I know what planet he comes from!" Vader snapped again. He looked down at his son's leg, which had a tiny plaster over the needle site. "Was it really necessary to use a _needle_ for it?"

"It's the only way to administer it, sir," Elise explained, trying to stop her hands from shaking. It was incredible how they didn't need to see the Sith Lord's face to know that he was angry. "And he will need more shots once he gets to Coruscant. From what I remember, babies receive their vaccinations every six months until the age of two. But the doctor will clarify everything for you."

"What are you implying here?" asked Vader coldly. "Are you suggesting that I need _clarification_ regarding such simple logic?"

Elise's eyes widened. "Not at all, sir! I was just explaining that-"

"Let ME explain this to YOU, 'medic'," Vader strode forward in a menacing manner. The Sith Lord towered over the diminutive Elise. "I am not some dim-witted Gungan that requires the assistance of medics who are responsible for twenty percent of the Imperial Army's deaths due to their incompetence." He handed Luke to Aren. "I am needed at a conference meeting, so you will stop my son from crying or I will give the _both of you_ something to really cry about. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" The two medics quickly answered. Vader glared at them both and handed Luke back to Elise before storming out of the room, feeling guilty as he heard his son crying after him.

He knew that he had promised both himself and his Master that he was NOT going to parent through emotion, but Luke made it exceedingly difficult not to. The feelings were still infuriating and uncomfortable, and Vader wondered whether the shock of being a parent would ever diminish. Luke _had_ to learn to live without his father's constant presence in his life so Vader had only visited him twice since his first time at the medical bay. But both times, Luke cried after him and Vader felt the unpleasant pang of guilt that reminded him of his former life.

I..I

Following his transition into his new body, Vader's meditation chamber had become the gateway to peace and serenity. Only a day prior to landing in Tatooine, he had been able to send his thoughts across the galaxy using the Force, and focus on what was to be. That had all changed the moment he had first laid eyes on Luke.

He suddenly wondered whether it would always be this way now that he was the father of a six-month-old baby boy, who would become an inmate of his palace in less than a day.

Vader suddenly realised that he hadn't even thought about where he was going to house his new son. The old Jedi Temple was currently in the process of being torn down to make way for the new Imperial Centre, so Vader was currently residing in an apartment within the upper-class Coruscant district until his palace was built. Perhaps Luke should sleep in his room? That way he could be close-by in the event of a possible emergency. However, as he recalled Luke's incessant screaming, he considered the consequences of doing so. His meditation chamber was his _domain_ ; a sanctuary in which he not only meditated but in which he could he could also live without the constraints of the suit and helmet he detested so much, as well as learning to harness the Dark Side to heal his broken body. How on earth would he be able to concentrate when there was a crying baby nearby. Then again, he couldn't be the only one in charge of Luke's care.

This point brought up yet another question he had to consider; who was going to take care of his son during his absences? He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of this until now. There was no escaping the fact that Vader would need to be away from Coruscant for extended periods; perhaps even months. Of course, he couldn't leave a baby to fend for himself when he clearly didn't even know where his nose was. The Sith Lord couldn't rely on the medics to take care of Luke any longer; no, Vader had to organise a nanny immediately; they couldn't arrive home without one. But the nanny was purely there for background purposes; Vader was completely capable of handling a baby.

But how does one go about hiring a nanny? Vader grimaced at the idea of asking his aides to organise one for him. Imagine their faces when the Sith Lord, who only threatened them to carry out important Imperial commands, threatened them to find a first-rate child minder for his six-month-old offspring instead? He didn't think he could deal with their gobsmacked faces, and the fact that they would most likely giggle behind his back, but what other option did he have? He would be too busy over the next day to look into such matters. Vader let out a resigned sigh and stormed out of his chamber. He rounded on the nearest aide, who shuffled backwards in fear and nearly sank to the floor in fear.

"You!" Vader pointed an angry finger at his face. The knowledge and shame of what he was about to do infuriated him to no end. "I want you to go and research the best child-minding services and nannies in Coruscant!"

As expected, the aide gawked at him in confusion. "Nannies, sir?"

Snarling, Vader clenched his fists. "Yes, _nannies_. Expense is no issue; I want the best and most highly trained one there is. Find those with the best reviews and give me your report in an exactly _one hour, no exceptions_. If you are one second late, I will have no hesitation in choking the life out of your imbecilic body!"

The aide was trembling so badly that he looked as though he couldn't stand of his own accord but he somehow managed to get to his feet and said hastily, "Yes, sir!" before tearing down the corridor as fast as his shaking legs could carry him. Vader grunted in irritation and spun around to find two troopers and another one of his aides staring in his direction. The Sith Lord resisted the temptation to throw them down the hallway and disappeared into his chamber again, slamming the door shut behind him. Having found a solution to _one_ of his problems (and having vented his frustration on someone), he was already feeling a lot better and decided to focus on what to do with his son's living quarters. Then, once all of his newfound parenting woes were sorted and he was fully prepared to take on his new parenting role, he could enjoy some much-needed meditation on the insanity that had been the past few days. Yes, he was perfectly capable of this.

Oh, how wrong he was…

I…I

Vader had wisely decided that it would be best if _he_ was the one to carry his son in the _Executor's_ shuttle as it landed in Coruscant. He remembered how his own ears had popped the first time he had taken the shuttle to the planet at nine years of age, and he had a nasty feeling that a baby's reaction to that foreign and painful feeling would be rather unpleasant. Luke whimpered ominously as they entered the lower atmosphere, but he seemed somewhat comforted by his father's touch. Vader was well aware of the looks his aides and soldiers were giving him but he decided that he had best get used to it. That didn't mean that he wouldn't Force-choke someone should they become too brazen.

Once they had landed on the docking platform, Vader got to his feet and carried Luke down the hallway.

After careful deliberation over the aide's report, Vader had chosen a nanny, who appeared to have the most experience and had stellar reviews. She was waiting for him at the platform.

"Lord Vader." The elderly woman bowed respectfully. "It is an honour to have been chosen to care for your son."

"I trust that you know what you are doing," said Vader testily. Just because others had left five-star reviews on her résumé didn't mean that he was entirely convinced of her capability. After all, this wasn't just some whiny brat born into Coruscant aristocracy. The nanny would be caring for the son of a respected Sith Lord. Besides, she also looked as though she was close to her deathbed.

"I can assure you, my Lord, that your son is in very good hands." The woman held her arms out and Vader handed his son over rather reluctantly. "I can take him to your quarters at once if you are needed elsewhere?"

"I think not," said Vader stiffly. At the woman's surprised look, he added quickly, "Luke never seems to settle unless I am in his sight. I think it best if I accompany you both back to my quarters first before I attend to other matters." It was somewhat true - Vader had to be within six feet of Luke in order for the baby to be happy - but he was also somewhat reluctant to send his new son off with a complete stranger, regardless of the fact that the infant would have the protection of a small army of guards and troopers. It would be downright irresponsible and Vader refused to a negligent caretaker. Luke might one day help him to change the galaxy, and he wasn't going to put that chance at risk.

The flight to his apartment was incredibly awkward. Vader, whose attention was usually drawn to Imperial matters during the shuttle rides to and from his home, was solely focused on Luke's new nanny. As far as he could tell, she did _seem_ to be well versed in handling infants, although Vader wondered how she would handle Luke when the Sith Lord wasn't in the room. Even though his son was currently cradled in his new nanny's arms, he refused to break eye contact with his father. Vader found himself becoming entranced by those big blue eyes again and quickly pulled himself together.

"I have organised for his first medical check-up this afternoon," the nanny informed him briskly.

Vader blinked in confusion at this information before shaking his head. Of course, Luke would need a standard medical appointment to assess his health! Hence why the _Executor's_ medics had administered a vaccination prior to his arrival.

"Naturally," he responded curtly, as though he had been well aware of this blatantly obvious fact.

"Is his nursery set up, or do I need to organise for the essentials?" the nanny queried, dabbing Luke's chubby hands with her fingers and pulling out a mobile computer from a large bag.

Vader looked at her in confusion. "Nursery? Essentials?"

The nanny nodded as she started typing. "Yes, simple things like a crib, changing table, a baby monitor and holo-camera-"

"A 'baby monitor'?" Vader couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes, a way for me to keep an ear and eye on your son when I'm not in the room," explained the nanny. "That way I can quickly come to the rescue, feed, change or comfort him if need be.

Vader smirked as he thought of the high-pitched squealing that had echoed relentlessly in the _Executor's_ medical bay and seriously doubted that a baby monitor would be necessary to supervise his son when there was no one in the room. But her rambling had brought home some startling facts. Of _course,_ Luke needed such items! How could he not have even thought of this? He should have organised this the moment he had decided which room son would be sleeping in. Now they would arrive home and the nanny would judge him for his lack of foresight. She was probably already doing that now.

Vader clenched his fists in annoyance before replying, "I shall leave it in your capable hands, although I had assumed that the most top-rated nanny in Imperial City would have already thought of these essentials. Especially considering how much I am paying for your services and skills, which I am already doubting." He leaned back in his seat and glared out the window. If this woman continued to cast judgement on his parenting, she would be out the door with a terrible review over her head.

Needless to say, that was the reality within merely three hours of Luke's residence in the Sith Lord's home.

I…I

It had been a week since Luke had moved in and Vader's self-assurances that he could handle it all had flown out the door the first evening, though he told himself otherwise. There seldom seemed to be a moment that the infant wasn't screaming his small lungs out. To be sure, Vader hadn't been dealing with it on his own, much to his chagrin. The idea of having to share his apartment with a baby had been daunting, but giving up his privacy to host a nanny had been another.

As he was about to sit in his meditation pod late one evening, there was a loud noise outside. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Vader got to his feet, stormed out of his room and swept into the darkness of the kitchen, where Luke's latest nanny was creeping across the ground with something in her hands. Judging by the broken pot nearby, she clearly hadn't been paying attention to what she had been doing.

Switching the lights on with the Force, Vader folded his arms and glared at her. Not that she could see his face but she could certainly sense the ire emitting from the Sith Lord's towering figure.

"What in the galaxy are you doing?" he snapped. "It is three a.m. and you are sneaking around the kitchen in the dark." He gestured at the item in the nanny's hands. "What is that? Are you stealing something of mine?"

"No, sir!" whimpered the nanny. She gulped nervously and held the diapers up. "It is merely an assortment of dirty diapers. Luke's sanitary items. I am disposing of them."

"And why is there such a large collection that you need to dispose of all of them at once?" demanded Vader, feeling even angrier at her explanation. Was she really assuming that he required a definition of the word "diaper"?

"I'm sorry, my Lord. I should have gotten rid of them earlier," the nanny apologised quickly. She felt like sinking into the floor. "They'll be gone in just a moment, I swear-"

"Yes, they'll be gone, and YOU'RE gone as well!" Vader pointed down the hallway towards her living quarters. "You have exactly five minutes to gather your belongings and leave my home before I really lose my temper. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir! I'm sorry, sir!" She bolted away at once. Vader thought he could detect traces of tears in her eyes but it only served to fuel his mental irritation. The nanny had no right to make such rude and completely inappropriate comments. Vader was completely aware of the fact that babies needed their diapers changed regularly. How dense did she think he was? He was the second most terrifying and perceptive man in the entire galaxy! If anyone was dim-witted, it was her.

Once she had bolted through the front door, Vader made to return to his meditation chamber when he heard a piercing shriek down the hallway.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

There was no prospect of sleep or meditation now. Vader sighed and made his way to Luke's room, or 'nursery', as his nannies had dubbed it. He detested the term immensely; it was Luke's room or 'quarters', not some childish nursery that was stuffed with an abundance of toys and knick-knacks. One nanny had told Vader that Luke needed toys for mental stimulation, and the result had been her immediate dismissal. Luke was not going to possess such items of any kind; it would teach him to value material possessions and such a trait would be unbecoming of a future Sith Lord. No, Vader was teaching him the right way of living from the very beginning!

Although he had to admit that the hanging light and sound toy that the nanny had placed over Luke's crib had certainly quietened the baby down, resulting in three blissful hours of meditation before Vader had disposed of the item.

Luke, who was lying on his back in his crib, immediately stopped crying at the sight of his father and held his arms in the air to be picked up. Vader did so, still unused to holding the small creature. He was certain that he was going to drop Luke and smash him to smithereens one day.

"You had best get used to having someone other than me in your life," Vader told the baby sternly. "I am NOT going to be available at your beck and call twenty-hour hours a day." He supposed that it was somewhat hypocritical to be saying this to Luke, considering that he had subjected his son to twenty-two nannies within the past seven days. It seemed as though his life was riddled with hypocrisy this week.

He looked across at what was apparently Luke's changing table and grimaced. Vader had walked through an endless sea of blood, corpses and their remaining organs, yet the sight of a soiled diaper made him cringe in a way dead bodies didn't. It crossed his mind that he wouldn't have to lay eyes on the nappy if he hadn't sent the latest nanny packing fifteen minutes ago.

But Vader couldn't deal with what he believed to be their unfounded criticism. All it took was a nanny to appear as though she was judging Vader's parenting skills and they would find themselves out the door before they even knew what was happening. But then Vader would find himself alone with a baby that now relied on HIM to feed, clothe, bathe and change his diapers, and the Sith Lord didn't have a clue how to accomplish any of those tasks. A new nanny was immediately hired and sent for, but the vicious cycle continued and Vader had a feeling that he would soon run out of nannies - whether made out of flesh or metal - to take care of his son. It wasn't his fault that they were completely incompetent and rude enough to judge he - the most feared Sith Lord in the galaxy - as a failure of a parent. He was a GREAT parent!

Or so he told himself at least one hundred times a day.

It didn't seem as though ANY nanny - whether human or droid - was capable of dealing with his headstrong offspring. Surely Luke wasn't _that_ bad to contend with? Then again, as Vader recalled the exhausted expressions on the medic's faces on-board the _Executor_ , and how he too was suffering through his son's incessant fussiness, perhaps Luke was an extremely special case. Maybe he was one in a quadrillion. It certainly seemed that way.

"What in the galaxy do you expect me to do?" he demanded irritably. Luke gave him a blank expression in return, as though he too wasn't quite sure of what he needed. Vader grimaced. He had hoped that the child would give him some kind of solution. He was starting to run out of ideas.

"Do you know what your problem is?" he continued. "You have no idea what you need or what you want out of life. You're like a piece of space junk floating aimlessly in the stars, and you will one day get a big shock when you collide with an asteroid and have no idea what to do next." Vader winced at his terminology. "Not that I consider you to be a piece of space junk; it is purely an analogy, but you had better start pondering your existence in this galaxy and deciding how you will achieve your goals. I will not tolerate such a blasé attitude in my home."

Vader suddenly realised that his ranting was having absolutely no effect on his son. How could it? Luke's only language at the present time was baby babbling. His son merely stared at him as father as though he was insane. Which probably wasn't far from the truth at the present time; Vader's mind had turned into mush since they had arrived home earlier that week.

"I'm at my wits end with you," he told Luke sternly. Vader was surprised to find that admitting his feelings to his son was proving to be quite therapeutic. Perhaps it was because Luke was too young to understand a word he was saying and therefore couldn't judge him. Whatever the reason, he continued to vent his frustrations.

"You must understand that your existence wasn't part of my plans. At least not for the past six months…" His heart panged as he recalled how excited Anakin and Padme had been prior to his transformation, and how they had planned for their child's impending birth. Vader had shoved those feelings aside the same moment his Master had told him Padme had died. "I am trying my best to incorporate you into my life and to provide you with the support and care that you need, but it doesn't seem to be enough. I…" he groaned wearily before uttering the words that he despised more than anything else in the world. "…I feel as though I am failing you. Failing my own son."

Vader closed his eyes and hung his head, the words swirling in his mind without stopping. There was nothing in the world that the Sith Lord despised more than failure and the inability to raise one's own child was, without a doubt, one of the biggest failures of all. What made it so terrible was that _he_ was the one responsible for it. His stubborn pride and ego had prevented him from seeking help and listening to the advice of those who obviously knew FAR more than he did.

Oh, what was he thinking when he had brought this child home? Vader cursed his stupidity. Luke would truly be far better off away from him and the Empire. He could be raised by people who would be a constant presence in his life, who knew and understood the trials of parenthood and who would not put his son in danger, simply by being within the same proximity of his father. For Vader knew that Luke's life would always be at risk. There were thousands of people out there who would immediately target the Sith Lord's son as a means of sabotage and revenge. Vader might now be cold-hearted and not hesitant in slaying those who opposed both he and the Empire, but he didn't believe that he could put his son in such danger. No, Luke was far better off without him, and tomorrow he would sort out Luke's future, which would be as far away from Vader as possible.

He was drawn from his dejected thoughts by a small hand being placed on his helmet and he opened his eyes. Luke was stroking the top of the mask in what appeared to be a soothing manner. It was as though he was trying to comfort his father. The Sith Lord gazed into his son's big blue eyes and swore that he could detect a hint of compassion in the glistening orbs. And…dare he say it…love…

Vader stiffened at that thought and quickly stifled it. Love was an emotion that imprisoned and weakened you, but he was strangely touched and felt slightly guilty over Luke's compassionate eyes. So mature at such a young age. It was intriguing. Perhaps he would develop an adult attitude more quickly than anticipated.

Luke's lips twitched into a small smile. It wasn't the same grin that was plastered on his face whenever Vader booped his nose. It was very different, yet Vader couldn't quite place why, until a strange sensation began to grow between them. He had sensed Luke's feelings before, but that had simply been through observation and common sense. Now though, he could _feel_ the waves of contentment and peace that was currently swimming in the infant's mind. He could _feel_ how safe Luke felt in his father's arms and how his son could have stayed there forever. Even though the baby was incapable of coherent thinking or speaking within his mind, Vader felt as though Luke was trying to connect and communicate with him in his own way.

The Sith Lord was speechless. It couldn't be...but it was. Somehow, in the space of only knowing each other for only ten days, he and Luke had developed a Force-bond. Vader had never thought it possible; it had taken a long time for one to develop between Anakin and Obi-Wan, yet here he was, connected to his son in the most profound way in existence. His excitement was also mixed with the knowledge of Luke's Force-sensitivity, so obvious at such a young age. Unbelievable!

Suddenly a wave of hope washed over Vader, and those self-deprecating thoughts melted away as he and Luke gazed at each other. If he could develop a Force-bond with his infant son after knowing him for such a short space of time, surely that meant something? Perhaps he was capable of this whole parenting thing after all. Vader resigned himself to the fact that he would _still_ require assistance in Luke's upbringing (and he would need to do it within the next hour in case of any diaper dramas. He couldn't always be there for the child - but he could find a way to make it work.

 _He could do this._

 **I…I**

 **Naww, that tentative relationship is truly starting to develop. I hope you all enjoyed and I will try to bring you the latest chapter as quickly as possible. Please let me know what you think!**


	6. A Reluctant Goodbye

**So, my super busy week has yet to start and I have decided to give you guys an early update until then. Hope you all enjoy and please to tell me what you think!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars universe in any shape or form. It all belongs to George Lucas and now Disney too. The only things I own are any OC's or anything else my mind concocts as the story goes on.**

CHAPTER SIX

A RELUCTANT GOODBYE

Vader's stride was brisk and energetic when he emerged from his chambers one morning, readying himself to leave Imperial City for the first time in a month. Today marked his first mission since he had officially taken on the trials and tribulations (and, dare he say it, joys) of fatherhood.

Palpatine had ordered him to command an operation to Hron; a planet that the Emperor had long held suspicions of possible rebellion against the new Empire since the Republic had been destroyed. Those suspicions had been proven correct when Senator Tulo - who represented the planet - had been caught in the early stages of attempting to establish an alliance between other systems to oppose the Galactic Empire. Palpatine had wasted no time in ordering quick and decisive military action to quash Hron and therefore make an example of the planet. The sooner they saw the futility of rebelling against the Empire, the sooner peace would be achieved throughout the galaxy.

Vader had always relished the prospect of a battle, and his immense dislike of Senator Tulo and his traitorous government made the prospect all the more gratifying, but underneath those enjoyable thoughts lay an undercurrent of fear and worry over his impending absence in his new son's life. Hron was situated within the Mid Rim - a considerably long distance from Coruscant - which meant that he wouldn't be able to get home quickly in an emergency. There was also the question of how long this mission would take. Vader could be away for days, even _weeks_. The determination to crush his opponents as quickly as possible had never been so strong as it was now.

The Sith Lord left the kitchen and walked down the hallway, marvelling at the peace and quiet that surrounded him. Vader didn't think that the newfound novelty of silence within his apartment would ever dim, and he couldn't put into words just how grateful he was for Nanna. After much trial and error, the nanny droid had finally managed to establish a daily schedule that had so far been quite successful in keeping Luke quiet and happy, minus a few snags. The problem was ensuring that the routine was strictly adhered to, as Luke, even at the age of seven months, had quickly figured out the roster and knew what every movement, sound and what the change in lighting meant. If one thing was out of place (as was necessary, due to Vader's busy schedule), chaos ensued.

The Sith Lord walked into the nursery and looked down at his son, who was sitting up in his crib. They had gone through several cots in the past few weeks. One Luke had somehow managed to climb his way out of the safety rails and had fallen face first on the ground (resulting in many tears). The second one had been bordered by invisible fencing and Luke had accidentally hit his head on the see-through barrier and had refused to be anywhere _near_ the cot afterwards. The THIRD one had contained an inbuilt sound machine, intended to soothe babies and help them sleep, but how on earth Luke had managed to actually raise the volume of the hidden machine, Vader had no idea, but it had resulted in an emergency trip to the Sith Lord's private doctor after the baby's eardrums had burst. Finally, they had settled on one that Vader couldn't honestly see _why_ it was apparently so much better, but Luke seemed satisfied and that was all that mattered. Against his better judgement, Vader had also installed a holoprojector on the ceiling above Luke's crib which, when turned on, displayed a dazzling array of stars and planets throughout the room at night. The Sith Lord reasoned that the toy would provide some educational value by encouraging his son's appreciation of space travel.

"Good morning, Luke," he greeted courteously. "How are you this morning?"

Vader couldn't bring himself to talk to his son as though he was the baby that he was. It would be most unbecoming of a terrifying and well-mannered Sith Lord. Besides, he did not wish for Luke - an impressionable blank slate who was to be moulded into something of great value to the Empire - to learn such nonsense and to use them in everyday language. How on earth could a child learn proper speech when he was subjected to foolish adorations and silly nicknames? No, Luke was going to learn how to speak in a proper, dignified manner right from the start. Of course, his son had yet to even learn his first word, and Vader's efforts to instil dignified manners hadn't quite rubbed off on him so far.

Luke smiled at his father. "Ah wah!" He held his arms in the air to be picked up. His son hated to be confined to his cot, even though he couldn't even walk yet. Vader shuddered at the antics Luke would no doubt get up to once he could. Crawling was bad enough; his son loved to sneak up behind him and tug on the Sith Lord's cloak; Vader had nearly tripped over him multiple times because of it.

"Good morning, my Lord," a calm voice spoke from the doorway. Nanna bustled into the room. She had once been a simple child-caring droid designed to take care of his son, but Vader had tinkered with her programming and circuitry, and now 'Nanna' was a force to be reckoned with. Not only was she capable of nurturing and caring for Luke, she was also a highly capable combat machine. Should an intruder or criminal manage to get past the multitude of highly advanced spy and surveillance systems, blast doors, guards and the other security measures he had in place within his palace, Nanna could easily defend Vader's son with the concealed blaster cannons within her upper arms. When the time came for Luke to venture outside the palace walls (something Vader didn't want to think about), the Sith Lord would ensure that the droid was with him at all times.

"I was just about to give Luke his breakfast, sir," Nanna told him.

"I can do it," said Vader gruffly. Nanna nodded and exited the room. Vader took the baby out of the cot, placed him in his high chair and walked to the cupboard to retrieve Luke's baby formula. His son was now consuming both formula and three servings of soft food a day and, after many frustrating attempts, he had finally moved on from his trusted bottle to a sippy cup. According to _The_ _Galaxy's_ _Guide_ _To_ _Raising_ _Babies_ , Luke was up to speed with his food development, which was something to put Vader's mind at ease.

As he pulled the tin of formula out of the cupboard, the Sith Lord studied the label; _Bantha_ _Baby_ _Nutrition_ : _Step_ _2_ _Formula_. Not only were the formula and tin chemical free, it was comprised solely all of natural ingredients. Apparently, blue milk, which provided the base of the formula, was the most nutritious source of dairy in the galaxy, and the least likely to cause stomach issues. The formula was also fortified with all natural vitamins and minerals.

 _Bantha_ _Baby_ _Nutrition_ : _Step_ _2_ _Formula_ had been recommended to him by Luke's doctor, but Vader had wanted to check for himself the quality of the products in question. After all, wasn't it his duty to know what Luke was consuming; especially since he seemed to eat so much these days? His concern had continued once Luke had moved on to solid foods and he was now a loyal supporter of the _Bantha_ _Baby_ _Nutrition_ _Company_ , so much so that he was seriously considering advertising their business in Imperial propaganda (although he had a sneaking suspicion that his Master would not approve). He would at least be making a

After moving Luke on to solid food, there was one thing that constantly bothered Vader; was Luke receiving too little or too many nutrients from his food sources? What if he was consuming too much potassium and developed a dangerous heart rhythm? Or if he wasn't getting enough iron and developed anaemia? It wasn't like he could discuss the issue with other parents, and Nanna had dismissed his concerns, but Vader still had his doubts.

He had decided that he needed to know these things, in case he and his son happened to be stranded somewhere (although that was highly unlikely since Luke hadn't been on a ship since his arrival on Coruscant and Vader was determined to prolong the day he brought his baby onboard the Executor again). Should such an impossible situation occur, it would at least be comforting to know that he could provide the adequate sustenance that Luke required to save alive. If he was completely honest with himself though, he actually enjoyed being the one to feed Luke. It made him feel...important. Even if he couldn't be the one to do it all the time, Vader could at least be the one to keep Luke alive when he was around.

The Sith Lord smiled grimly as he poured the formula into the cup and added water. It sometimes felt as though he was going to be the one responsible for his son's untimely demise. The previous night's incident - in which Vader had accidentally dug his finger in Luke's eye, was a perfect example.

He was distracted from his self-deprecation by a thumping sound and looked towards the high chair, where Luke was banging the table with both fists while scowling at his father.

Vader sighed, shook the cup and handed it to his son, who started guzzling it down greedily. Luke always seemed to shut up at the prospect of food. According to one of the parenting books he had purchased, babies should not be fed too much to prevent stomach upset (something Vader was now well versed in), sleep disturbance and weight gain, but Luke remained at a healthy weight for his age, and the Sith Lord had found it to be an easy way to stop Luke from screaming the apartment down. He supposed that it would be considered poor parenting by experts (Nanna certainly didn't approve) but Luke's high-pitched bawling really was enough for him to ignite his lightsaber and destroy each and every expensive parenting guide he had purchased (and hidden away from prying eyes) since Luke had moved in.

It took a record eight seconds for Luke to finish the formula and he held out his cup for more. Vader shook his head adamantly.

"No, Luke." His son's bottom lip quivered but Vader shook his head again. He was determined to be firm and provide the clear boundaries and rules that were stated in every book and, considering his reputation as a fearsome Sith Lord who killed anyone that disobeyed his orders, he had believed that he could manage to control Luke's behaviour. But like his attempts to reign in his son's voracious appetite, Vader was irritated by the fact that he hadn't managed to earn Luke's respect yet. One look at the seven-month-old's big blue eyes and the man who murdered without thought melted. It was a foreign and deeply unhelpful feeling but it was there. Vader was seriously beginning to wonder whether he should have a miniature replica of his helmet made for Luke so he didn't have to see the eyes that had him entranced every single time he looked into them.

He was incredibly thankful when Nanna re-entered the room so that she could deal with Luke's tantrum. The droid was much more adept at dealing with the baby's manipulative ways.

Luke squirmed in his seat and beamed at Nanna, holding his small arms out wide to be picked up. The baby's love for the droid was second only to that for his father. Nanna gently pulled him out of his chair and bounced him on her hip.

"Are you going to give me that cup?" Nanna queried. Luke shook his head. "I'm not going to refill it, you know." Luke still shook his head. Evidently, he held some kind of secret hope that his nanny would change her mind.

"Ba ba mima wa ba," he babbled. Only a month ago, Vader would have found the sound of a baby's indecipherable chatter irritating but he no longer felt that way, although he told himself otherwise. After all, it just prolonged Luke's infancy instead of learning a fine level of vocabulary that was required for his future growth and development. However, deep down inside, Vader found Luke's incomprehensible babbling far more intelligent than most of the rubbish adult conversations he was forced to endure on a daily basis. The Sith Lord often found himself falling under the spell of his son's chattering and would stand there for a long time just listening to it before shaking himself from his stupor and reinforcing his vow to mould Luke into an adult as quickly as possible.

"You know, I do believe that he might be close to saying his first word, sir," commented Nanna.

"Really?" Vader's face brightened at this, although the droid couldn't see it. He hastily stifled his excitement and asked in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone, "Indeed. How can you tell?"

"Several signs are evident," answered Nanna. Vader was incredibly thankful that the droid possessed so much knowledge. "It is clear that he understands the word 'no', which is to be expected since he has heard it so often.

Vader agreed with that; he had lost count of how many times he had had to tell Luke "No!" when the baby had wanted more food over the past few weeks.

"Plus, he has been using a wider range of consonant sounds and vocal tones," continued Nanna. She performed her usual physical examination of Luke's face. "It appears as though he will reach his first milestone in speech development."

"I haven't the slightest doubt that it will be something related to food," said Vader drily, watching as Luke held the empty sippy cup above his head. The baby opened his mouth wide and tried to shake any last remnants of the formula out of the cup, then burst into tears when he was unsuccessful.

"That is enough now, Luke," said Nanna firmly. She deftly wrestled the cup out of the baby's hand and replaced it with his favourite rattle toy. It too only existed in the apartment by Vader's good graces; the toy possessed several buttons and textures that encouraged a child's sense of touch and sound. Luke's blue eyes immediately brightened and he shook the toy with so much relish that it went flying across the room, causing him to burst into tears again.

Vader sighed and wondered how on earth he had managed to procure any moment of peace since his son had taken up residence in his palace. But again, if he was completely honest with himself, he wouldn't have had it any other way. Luke's crying, while incredibly frustrating, at least filled the silence and dragged Vader away from his lonely thoughts. There was no time to ponder his past when there was a baby who relied on him.

The Sith Lord suddenly realised the time and knew that he had to leave in only a few moments. However, he couldn't leave without saying goodbye to his son. Vader held his arms out and Nanna immediately handed Luke over. The droid was the only one who didn't recoil from Vader's touch the moment they had given him his son.

"Leave us," the Sith Lord said stiffly. Vader still didn't feel comfortable in bestowing any form of affection on his son with an audience. Nanna bowed her head respectfully and left the room. Once he was sure that the droid was out of earshot, Vader looked down at Luke's face and wiped the remnants of formula off his small lips and his bodysuit.

"Now you be good," he warned. "No temper tantrums and no throwing your belongings around. You shouldn't have so many to begin with. Don't be greedy, don't end up in hospital from over-gorging on formula, and..." He glanced warily at the door before speaking quietly, "…put off speaking that first word until I get back. Understood?"

"Ah muh," his son responded cheerfully. Luke raised his small finger and booped Vader's mask. He had quickly learned to do so from Vader's habits of doing it to him. The Sith Lord chuckled and booped his nose in return.

He placed Luke back in the crib, retrieved the toy and returned it to Luke and left the room, making sure to check the cupboard to ensure that there was enough food to last Luke's voracious appetite. Vader turned around one last time to find Luke eyeing the cupboard with interest. The Sith Lord groaned and pointed a warning finger at his son.

"Don't even think about it!" he said sternly. Luke smiled innocently in return. Vader closed his eyes and prayed to the Force that his son wouldn't suddenly start walking until he had procured a deadbolt for the cupboard that contained all that yummy formula Luke loved so much. Although it was possible that he crawled his way out of his cot; it had certainly happened before. Vader pointed at him again and left the room, wondering what he would be returning home to. Fortunately, Nanna was well equipped in dealing with Luke; there was no one else qualified enough.

"Good luck with your mission, sir," farewelled the droid, as Vader walked past her. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"Keep me updated on Luke's behaviour and his...health." Vader found it hard to admit that he cared about anyone's wellbeing, even that of his son. "And see to it that a deadbolt is installed on his nursery cabinet; it appears as though he had finally discovered the magical wonders that it contains."

"Yes, my Lord." Nanna bowed her head. Vader gave the hallway an almost wistful look, then pulled himself together and left the apartment, barking orders at his workers and threatening their imminent demise should his shuttle not be ready in time.

 **I…I**

 **Aww, Vader thinks he's such a tough guy, doesn't he? I hope you all enjoyed and please let me know what you think!**


	7. A New Milestone

**I'm so sorry for the delay; I've been super busy AND sick for the past fortnight, but I've managed to type this up before I can pass out for the next twelve hours. It's extra-long to make up for the long wait too. I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars universe in any shape or form. It all belongs to George Lucas and now Disney too. The only things I own are any OC's or anything else my mind concocts as the story goes on.**

CHAPTER SEVEN

A NEW MILESTONE

It was not often that Palpatine made contact with Vader when his apprentice was on a mission. The Emperor generally placed a great deal of faith in Vader's judgement and waited for his apprentice to make contact first, whether via hologram or in person once he returned. Therefore, Palpatine requesting to communicate with Vader would ordinarily be both surprising and worrying. But Vader knew why his Master had done so. All he had to do now was convince the Emperor that he wouldn't need to do so again.

"So, instead of preparing Nilna for our arrival and alerting their supposed allies, the senator decides to send out a distress call to no one in particular, _even though we are monitoring all communication activities_ , then conceals himself in his home, using the majority of the city's army force to defend his house whilst leaving the rest of the capital unprotected and vulnerable?" Palpatine's voice was dripping with contemptuous amusement.

"The man is as incompetent as his father before him," said Vader coolly. "Stupidity must run within the Tulo gene pool. Fortunately, his blatant ineptitude will make our arrival on land much easier than anticipated."

"What of the city of Prasas?" queried Palpatine.

"I have sent troops to Prasas to contain its armed forces," answered Vader. "Without the help of their sister Capital, Nilna and Senator Tulo will be helpless."

The Emperor smiled darkly. "Good. Be sure to give him my regards before you destroy him. Remember; I want this planet to be made an example of."

"Yes, Master." Vader bowed his head.

"Oh, and Lord Vader?" The smile had disappeared from Palpatine's face. The man looked at his apprentice with narrowed eyes. "Do not fail me."

Vader didn't need the Emperor to elaborate on _why_ he shouldn't fail him; he knew exactly what the repercussions of failure meant.

"I won't, Master." He bowed his head once more. Palpatine's hologram had winked out but Vader remained on his knee, deep in thought. Tensions had been high between him and his Master since Luke's existence had been made known. Palpatine had remained suspicious and doubtful over Vader's ability to balance his commitments to the Empire with being a parent, and Vader had been battling with the knowledge that the man he had placed his utmost trust in had clearly lied about Padmé's fate on Mustafar. Clearly, she had lived long enough to give birth to their son and that simple fact that he hadn't been aware of had been making Vader's blood boil for the past few weeks. It was extremely difficult trying to shield his rage from his Master but he knew he had to in order to keep Luke alive. It was for the greater good.

He finally got to his feet and left his meditation chamber, relishing in the frightened side steps and nervous expressions on the faces of the ship's aides and officers.

"Admiral Virer," he barked once he had entered the bridge. The Admiral hastily came to attention.

"Yes, sir!"

"Prepare for surface attack," ordered Vader. "It is time for Senator Tulo to meet his fate, whether he is ready to or not."

"Yes, sir!" Virer inclined his head and began to make preparations for their arrival. Vader strode over to the bridge window and observed the starry sky before him. Up ahead was Hron, coloured in swirls of deep green, blue and gold. Vader smiled coldly at the sight and imagined the look on Senator Tulo's arrogant, pudgy face before the Sith Lord would choke the life out of him.

I…I

 _Vader's apartment._

Meanwhile, in Coruscant, Nanna was bustling around the apartment completing chores, making sure to provide a distraction for her young charge so that she could get things done. Vader had, albeit begrudgingly, permitted the use of a holoscreen, but strictly stipulated that Luke was only to watch educational programs (and he had locked out several channels to ensure the infant's eyes wouldn't be soiled by more adult content). He needn't have worried though; Luke was far too obsessed with the kid's channel to care about anything else available on the HoloNet.

Luke sat there, almost going cross-eyed, absolutely mesmerised by what he was watching. It was one of those kid's shows that seemed to make zero sense whatsoever, but the bright colours and sounds held Luke's attention, the same way he was fixated on his beloved formula when it was within his sight. Vader only permitted the viewing of this insipid and idiotic show because it at least demonstrated basic manners. Plus, it was far better than that weird and downright creepy "Deep in the Oogy's Mind." If the psychotic and toothless "Oogy Woogy Doogy" didn't give Luke nightmares, it might one day disturb Vader's sleep. Even the most feared Sith Lord in the galaxy had shuddered when he had watched the first episode with his son.

Luke's eyes immediately brightened as his favourite character appeared. Poko - an adorable, purple ash-rabbit who wore a white ribbon around his neck - bounced across the screen, his arms positioned in a typical bunny pose. Luke imitated him and bounced up and down on his bottom. Poko was immediately joined by Bubba; a creature whom a disgusted Vader had once remarked looked like a stuffed bear mixed with sick bantha and coloured with a blinding array of sickly colours. Bubba sat beside Poko and burped loudly. Luke imitated him too. Thankfully Vader had never witnessed Bubba performing such crude behaviour or Luke's favourite show would be off limits forever.

"Clap hands for food!" Bubba ordered.

Giggling, Luke wriggled forward and clapped his tiny hands together in time with the music. Perhaps this show had further deepened his love of food. But, while Bubba's clapping had been rewarded with his trademarked "Bubba Snack Pack", Luke's efforts weren't rewarded at all. He was about to cry his disapproval but was distracted by Poko, who held a tiny arm out in greeting.

"Hi!" the bunny waved cheerfully.

Luke waved his hand at the screen in return.

"High five!"

Luke raised his hand in the air. Poko and Bubba then proceeded to frolic through a sunny field of flowers that made Vader roll his eyes every time he watched it. Luke's smile widened as he took in the bright and colourful landscape, so different from his own. It was that same happy expression that convinced Vader to keep the stupid show on every time, even if the sickly sweetness of it would one day kill him.

The baby frowned as the show switched over to the commercials, and he crossed his arms and pouted as though his tantrum would make the ads end quicker. Of course, it never worked (no matter how many times he had tried it) so he resigned himself to the next two minutes of boredom until he could watch Poko and Bubba's antics again.

The ads passed by, none of them making any sense to Luke until the final one before the commercial break ended. A toddler was running up to a man, who picked him up and cuddled him close. The ad was for a new high-tech brand of diapers, but Luke obviously had no idea what it was.

"I wuv my daddy!" the toddler in the commercial lisped.

Luke frowned. He crawled closer to the holoscreen, but the ad had already finished, designating the start of his favourite show again. But this time the baby wasn't interested in Poko and Bubba. Luke's mouth opened and closed multiple times as he tried to roll the word around his tongue.

"D..." he mumbled. "Da..."

There was a beeping noise behind him. He heard Nanna speaking to someone, although he couldn't make out the words.

"All is well, sir. Luke's been sleeping and eating as normal…he's currently watching the _Grand Adventures of Poko and Bubba_ again…no he hasn't spoken…I'll get him for you, sir." There was a slight pause and Luke found himself being lifted into Nanna's arms and carried across the room. His blue eyes widened in disbelief as he found himself looking into what appeared to be an incredibly tiny version of his immensely tall father.

"Hello, Luke," Vader greeted rather crisply. His deep, rasping voice sounded exactly the same. Luke squealed with excitement and frantically pointed at his father.

"Yes, Luke, it's me," Vader chuckled. Instead of waving, Luke made a "high five!" gesture. Vader pulled himself together and raised his head in a dignified manner.

"I trust that you are behaving yourself, my son?" he queried. Again, Luke had no idea what the man was saying but he was just happy to hear his father's voice. He beamed at Vader and clapped his small hands together, overwhelmed with excitement.

Neither Luke or Nanna could see beneath Vader's mask, otherwise they would have seen the affectionate smile that was spreading on the Sith Lord's scarred face. Vader was thankful that his helmet completely covered his head. However, the emotions his son's reaction to his presence were making him feel uncomfortable and he decided the best course of action was to cease transmission as quickly as possible.

"If everything is well and you are truly behaving yourself, then I must return to my duties," he said stiffly. "Be a good boy, and I will speak with you again tomorrow."

"Say goodbye to daddy, Luke," ordered Nanna.

Time seemed to freeze. Vader's gaze lifted from Luke to the nanny droid. Even though he was not physically present, his anger could _still_ be felt as though he was right in front of them.

"Never utilise such pathetic, childish terminology ever again," he warned coldly. "I will not have my son subjected to such nonsensical rubbish, is that understood?"

Nanna bowed her head. "I am sorry, sir." Vader gave her one last scrutinising look before his image winked out, unaware of the fact that Luke was still waving after his father disappeared, his lips moving soundlessly as he continued to roll that same word around his tongue.

I…I

 _Hron_

Vader could never sit idly by and allow others to fight his battles for him whilst waiting in comfort and observing from a safe distance. If there was one trait that had survived Anakin Skywalker's fiery downfall, it was the determination to be out there on the frontlines, fighting for justice. Granted his views regarding what constituted justice had drastically changed since then, but he still loathed the idea of hiding from a fight.

He gathered the Force within him, allowing it to froth in his veins and swell in his mind. The Sith Lord felt the Dark Side consume him, giving him the focus and strength that Anakin had never possessed. Vader fed on that anger as greedily as Luke gorged on formula. He closed his eyes, relishing in the power that surged through his body.

It was _good_ to be out on the battlefield again.

Hron had never cared about inter-planetary relations before and they had never been steadfast advocates for the Republic or even the Empire. In fact, their presence in the Senate had largely gone unnoticed for the past few centuries, as they tended to keep to themselves. However, the entire planet was on the verge of bankruptcy and Senator Tulo's frosty relationship with Palpatine pre-Empire had caused him to seek help from neighbouring planets, that were suspected of anti-Imperial beliefs but were also far more financially stable than Hron. Unfortunately for Tulo, the Empire had spies hidden all over the galaxy and the man had been too stupid to solicit help privately. Vader would have laughed about it, had he not been so angry about yet _another_ planet attempting to destroy the newfound peace throughout the galaxy.

Gaining control of Nilna had been criminally easy, even with the might of the Imperial army. It had been made clear the moment they had landed that Tulo had indeed ordered the city's armed forces to protect himself and his home, leaving the district completely vulnerable to an attack. Vader and his troops had then marched onwards to Tulo's mansion, which was situated to the north of Nilna. As the Imperial Ground Forces battled against Hron's soldiers outside the mansion, Vader had forced his way inside and was now storming his way through the immense building with a group of troopers behind him.

Soldiers leapt out from the shadows with blasters in their hands but were quickly cut down by Vader's lightsaber or from the Imperial Army's retaliatory fire. Whoever had been in command of protecting this marble building had evidently been as stupid as the senator. On and on they marched, smiting anyone who stood in their path until they stood before a heavy set of locked doors. It only took a few blaster shots for the doors to give way so that Vader could enter the room.

It didn't take long to find him; even if the rotund man had covered himself more thoroughly with the curtain he was hiding under, Vader still would have heard his frightened squeaking. With a wave of his hand, the curtain was lifted away from the large lump, revealing a terrified Senator Tulo huddled in a ball.

"Well, well, well," said Vader icily. He stalked towards the man, his lightsaber still ignited. "What a lovely image this is. One befitting of your pathetic attempt at a rebel alliance."

"My Lord!" Tulo squawked pitifully. His moustache was quivering. "Hron's loyalty has always remained steadfast to the Empire."

"Spare me your faux platitudes of loyalty, Senator," said Vader, his voice still icy. He moved closer. "The Emperor knows of your betrayal. He doesn't forgive or forget, and neither do I."

"What of those who support Hron?" demanded Tulo, clutching desperately at the wall as he watched the lightsaber draw closer.

"If you are referring to Gwayher and Kulmnard, I think that you should have contacted them directly for aid, instead of sending out distress signals to everyone in the mid rim, including the Empire." At Tulo's pitiful whimper, Vader snorted. "A friendly tip, Senator Tulo; exercise caution when broadcasting your problems across the galaxy. I suppose it no longer matters since I will be striking you down with my lightsaber within the next twenty seconds."

The senator's face was covered with a sheen of sweat. Evidently, the imbecile had hoped that his haphazard attempt at garnering assistance would come to fruition. Instead, he would meet his end alone. The continued existence of Gwayher and Kulmnard were due purely to their strategic and financial value to the Empire; Hron possessed nothing that was worth salvaging. The only claim to fame that the planet now had was being a warning to Gwayher, Kulmnard and any planet who dared to oppose the Empire. Vader was sorely tempted to hang Tulo's sweaty head off the _Executor_ …that or mount it on a wall in the Senate building.

"DADDY!"

Vader whipped his head around and could barely register a tiny, blurred figure zooming past him. A small girl, around the age of four, jumped into her cowering father's arms. She looked up at Vader through tear-filled brown eyes.

The Sith Lord waited for the typical "Spare my child!" plea but that was not what Tulo had in mind. Instead, the panicked man quickly shoved his daughter in front of Vader, keeping a firm grasp on her shoulders in order to keep her from moving.

Vader stared at Senator Tulo in utter disbelief. This man - this arrogant, weak-minded traitor - was using his own daughter as a _shield_ to save himself from suffering Vader's well-deserved retribution?

"Don't hide behind your offspring, Senator," he said coldly. "Act like the brave, rebel leader that you are and fight me yourself!"

Tulo merely shook his head wildly and pushed his daughter forwards. "You wouldn't kill an innocent child, would you Lord Vader?"

But Vader had. He had slaughtered _hundreds_ of younglings on the first eve of the 'Great Jedi Purge', some of whom had barely begun to live. In the back of his mind, Vader remembered his pre-suited self in Mustafar, standing on that balcony in the Separatist installation and glaring across the blistering, lava-painted landscape. It had been the first moment he'd had to take in the events of the preceding twenty-four hours and the reality had swiftly crashed down on him with a frightening intensity. His emotionally ravaged mind at the time had been close to driving him to insanity, but as the images of the deceased children lying before him in the Jedi Temple replayed on a continuous loop in his brain, he had repeated the same words to himself over and over again

" _It was for the greater good."_

So why should this circumstance be any different? It would take only one strike of his blade and the Senator would be without protection. Only a month ago, Vader would have done so, even if he detested it, but as he looked into those watery brown eyes, he was reminded of Beru Lars, who had given her life to protect her nephew. Only this time it was a child who was being sacrificed to save a man who clearly had no qualms about losing his daughter to save his own neck.

"I thought that you loved me, daddy!" the little girl sobbed.

Her words angered Vader beyond anything he had felt since embarking on this mission and he raised his lightsaber. He could tell by the terrified look in the girl's eyes that she thought she was about to be killed but that wasn't what Vader was planning. He watched as Tulo's fingers slowly receded from his daughter's shoulders, believing that she was about to be killed and that he could attempt some kind of foolish escape. The exact moment he pushed her forward, Vader roughly shoved her aside and plunged his lightsaber into the man's chest.

Tulo's eyes barely had time to widen in shock before he collapsed onto his back, his mouth agape. Vader's fingers tingled with pleasure as he pulled his saber from Tulo's chest.

"DADDY!" The little girl screamed and ran to her father's prone body. She buried her face in his neck and hugged him close, sobbing into his shoulder. Vader couldn't move, couldn't speak. He merely stared at the young child hugging the man who had so readily used her as a human shield only seconds prior.

Vader heard heavy footsteps and knew that some of his troopers had entered the room.

"Sir?" the commander looked from Vader to the body on the floor and to the crying girl, then back to the Sith Lord again. Vader, still unable to tear his gaze from the child, merely pointed at her.

"Take this child to the detention centre."

"Aye, sir!" The commander saluted him and picked the child up.

"NO!" the little girl screamed. She pummelled the trooper's back with tiny fists. "DADDY!" But the commander continued to carry her away from her father, leaving a suddenly very weary Sith Lord standing in the room, empty except for himself and Senator Tulo's corpse.

I…I

It was well after midnight by the time Vader finally reached home a couple of days later. He had arrived on Coruscant three hours prior but he had been forced to make contact with the Emperor, who had naturally been very pleased by the course of events that had taken place. Vader had a feeling that he was back in his Master's good books again and was incredibly grateful for it. Had things failed, he would have been forced to send his son packing...or worse.

Vader shook his head and determinedly pushed those thoughts aside. He passed through the entrance to his home, ignoring the guards whom he could sense were cowering in his wake, and he was thankful that it was far too late for him to be bothered by an endless array of Imperial representatives. Had he arrived home three hours earlier, he would have been swamped by them and would have then been forced to fling them out of the way with a mere flick of his wrist.

On the other hand, if Nanna's schedule was working as well as it had been before he had left, Luke would have fallen asleep hours ago and now Vader could not greet his son until morning (unless Luke decided to enjoy a random bout of crying, which was highly likely). Although he tried to deny it, the Sith Lord was slightly grieved by this knowledge; after all, he hadn't seen his son in a week, save for brief hologram conversations.

He shook his head again and straightened his back. What Vader really needed was rest and meditation; he had just returned from a week-long mission and had spent _one_ _hundred_ _and_ _thirty_ _hours_ of that time on the battlefield after all. He couldn't keep putting his own wellbeing on hold, purely for the sake of a child whose entire life focused on food, sleep, screaming and nose booping. No, Vader would speak to Luke in the morning.

Still...he paused for a moment. It wouldn't hurt to check on Luke before he turned in, just to be sure that he was safe. Vader could just pop his head in and check that his son was sleeping peacefully and wasn't at death's door. That way he could rest easy without any distractions, which Luke seemed to provide several of on a daily basis. Yes, he would quickly check on his sleeping son then retire to his chamber to meditate.

Mind made up, Vader entered the apartment and made his way to his son's room, his pace quickening as Luke's presence indicated that sleep was currently NOT on his agenda. Nanna, who was tidying the living room, looked up.

"Welcome back, sir," she said calmly. "Luke is asleep. Permission to power down, sir?"

Vader nodded quickly and continued his journey down the hallway, vaguely registering the sound of the nanny droid powering down a short time to recharge. Nanna might not have been able to sense it, but he knew that his son was NOT asleep and was up to something. And when Luke was up to something, it was never good.

Vader opened the nursery door. As he expected, Luke was not in his crib but was on the floor and very much awake instead. The baby was crawling with apparent haste across the room and he came to an immediate halt at the sight of his father. After the way his son had enthusiastically greeted him through the holocam during his mission, Vader was slightly surprised (and a tad disappointed if he admitted it to himself) about Luke's unenthusiastic reaction to his return. The baby merely sat there dejectedly, looking as though he hated his life and everyone in it.

"What on earth are you doing on the floor?" Vader demanded. He picked the infant up and observed him for any injuries. The last time Luke had climbed out of his old crib, he had gotten his foot caught on the rail, and Vader had found him dangling upside down, screaming to be released. When he was satisfied that Luke was not hurt, he lifted him up so that his son was staring directly into Vader's dark eye sockets. "I am almost certain that you are possessed!"

Luke hiccupped. His face was splotched with some kind of powder and his bottom lip was quivering. His gaze roamed from his father to across the room. Vader looked behind his shoulder to find that the nursery cabinet that contained Luke's beloved formula had been breached, in spite of the fact that Nanna had installed an electronic lock. Vader stared at the half-empty tin of formula that had been tipped on the floor then at his son. The baby's hands were also covered in powder, and there was an ominous expression in Luke's eyes that Vader knew all too well.

Oh no...

"Wait!" But it was too late. Vader groaned as a cascade of spew washed over his shoulder. He grimaced at his son, who was obviously feeling a lot better now and was smiling at his father in return.

"Well this is a lovely welcome home gift, Luke," he said sarcastically. The baby merely grinned at him. Shaking his head, Vader set about cleaning Luke up first before himself.

"One certainly cannot say that you do things half-heartedly, can they?" The Sith Lord shook his head at his now spotless son and finished redressing him in new pyjamas. It had taken a while to learn how to change Luke's clothes without the baby scurrying away or rolling off the surface he was lying on, but he was getting better every time. Luke was perfectly happy now and in the mood to shower his father with welcoming affection. The moment Vader had finished buttoning his onesie, he held his chubby arms out for cuddles.

"Well, I hope you have learned a valuable lesson now, young one." Vader waggled a leather-clad finger at Luke's face. "Don't be greedy. No one likes a gluttonous sarlacc." The Sith Lord was beginning to think that his son might be the human equivalent of the carnivorous creature. In a few more months he might find himself locked in his son's mighty jaws, to be injected with agonising toxins and then be slowly digested for millennia. At the rate Luke's baby teeth were growing, it could very well be the next time he stepped foot in this room.

His son merely giggled in response. Vader had a grim feeling that this was a lesson his son was never going to learn, and he decided that it was time for Luke's formula to be relocated somewhere beyond a seven-month-old's reach. How the infant had managed to force his way into the secure cabinet was baffling, and Vader wasn't going to risk it again. He should have known that, with Luke's insatiable appetite, _anything_ was possible.

Luke was still holding his arms in the air to be picked up. Vader sighed, lifted the baby off the table and held him so that they were looking into each other's eyes again. As he gazed into his son's bright blue orbs, the Sith Lord could sense the same peace and contentment that Luke felt every time he was in his father's arms. The seven-month-old smiled softly at him, and Vader could feel the waves of love and affection that were emanating from Luke's heart. But the knowledge that should have warmed the Sith Lord's heart in turn chilled him to the core instead. Only two days prior he had sensed those same feelings of pure love and trust when Senator Tulo's daughter had been held in front of the politician's body as a shield. Even though her father was using her to protect himself, the little girl still loved her father. Of course, she did; she was only an innocent child, completely naïve and unaware of the harshness and cruelties of the real world. She would have _never_ imagined that the one man she should have had no doubt would protect her would happily exchange her life for his. The supposed love for his family Senator Tulo had boasted of had been nothing but a political stunt. It had all been a lie.

Yet that girl would continue to adore her father and for what? So she could live in a world filled with sunshine, rainbows and animals like that insipid Poko and Bubba gallivanting through never-ending flowery fields? She would keep on lying to herself until she would end destroying her life. Because love in itself was a lie. Love destroyed everything. It had destroyed Vader's life.

 _His mother. Padmé. Obi-Wan. Betrayal. Abandoned. Left to die._

Next, it would be Luke.

That was it; Vader had to leave the room _immediately._

He quickly placed his son in his crib and let go of him as though his fingers had been burned. He then turned the holoprojector on, hoping that Luke would stop looking at him through those love filled eyes. The ceiling was suddenly alight with a dazzling array of stars, but for the first time, Luke wasn't interested in them. He continued to gaze at his father with unnerving emotion given his young age.

"Good night, young one," said Vader coldly. He swiftly turned away before his son ensnared him with those eyes again, and he was just about to walk through the door when Luke's voice spoke behind him.

"Daddy."

Vader stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around slowly to find his son sitting up in the crib, looking at him through those bright blue eyes.

"What did you just say?" Vader asked, not daring to believe it.

"Daddy," Luke gurgled again, proving Vader correct. The baby pointed at him. "Daddy!"

It felt as though time had stopped. Vader stood as though rooted to the floor as he realised what this meant. He was his son's first word! The Sith Lord felt an unbidden burst of pride at the knowledge before shaking himself back to reality. He couldn't allow himself to be so pathetically affected by such trivial things. Vader marched over to his son's crib and looked down at the smiling creature.

"As flattered as I am that I am the chosen subject for your first word, I insist that you do not call me by such a name," he said sternly. "Call me 'father'."

Luke stared at him blankly for a moment before smiling again. "Daddy."

Vader groaned. "No, Luke; I am your father."

"Daddy."

"Father."

"Daddy!"

"Father!"

"DADDY!"

"FATHER!"

Vader sighed as Luke burst into tears.

"Don't cry," he grumbled wearily. Luke's lower lip continued to tremble. Vader relented. "If you insist on calling me such a silly name, I implore you to do so only in private."

Once again, his pleas were in vain; Luke hadn't the slightest idea what he was saying. Vader yearned for the day that his son would be able to comprehend his words; then he could be sure that Luke wouldn't embarrass him to death by calling him "daddy" in front of the entire Empire (particularly the Emperor).

Luke held his arms out to be picked up again. "Daddy?"

Vader had a feeling that Luke had sensed that his new milestone had slightly melted his father's attitude and he wondered how one small organism could be so manipulative. Resigned, he pulled his son out of the crib and held him on his hip. Luke held his hand up to give him a high five.

"Daddy!"

Vader hesitated. After checking his surroundings to make sure that Nanna wasn't in the room and that there were no secret cameras recording this moment, Vader stiffly returned it.

"Never expect me to do that again," he told his son sternly. "You seem to have a gift of forcing me to behave in a most uncivilised manner."

He was sure that Luke actually _smirked_ at his words. What on earth was his son going to put him through when he became a teenager? But that unbelievably smug grin on Luke's face disappeared so quickly that Vader wondered whether he had imagined it, and was replaced with a tired expression instead.

"Daddy," Luke whispered sleepily. He nestled into his father's chest and was asleep within seconds. Vader couldn't understand how his son found the feeling of cold leather and durasteel comforting. Then again, as the medics had told him on the _Executor_ , sometimes it was simply the reassurance and protection that only a parent could provide.

But, as he had plainly seen this week, sometimes that unwavering confidence in one's parent lead only to heartbreak. Placing faith in your father, only to be dealt a near fatal blow, was something Vader knew all too well. Obi-Wan had been the closest thing to a father that he had ever known, and the how had the Jedi had rewarded his loyalty and devotion? Through utter betrayal and by turning his back on him, leaving Vader to burn on that molten lava bank. The Sith Lord may have slain his former Master only a month prior but it had brought him no closure. The anger he felt every time he remembered Obi-Wan's face before he left Vader to die remained, made worse by the fact that it _still_ hurt. Not just the flesh wounds; he now harnessed the anger from his physical pain and used it as a means of strengthening the darkness within him. No, it was the gaping wound that still bled within whatever remained of Anakin Skywalker's heart, and it served as a constant reminder that he still had not let go of his former self.

Every time he looked into his son's eyes, he could feel Anakin's hands clutching at Vader's soul, as though the Jedi was trying to pull him back from the person he had become. The far stronger, powerful man that should be completely unaffected by his child and the prospect that, one day, Vader might one day be forced to sacrifice his son for the greater good…

In that split second, Vader felt a burst of resentment towards Luke. If it hadn't been for his son's existence, Vader could have truly begun to move on from the past. It had only been seven months since Padmé had died and the wound was still too raw to touch. Before he had met his son, he had found a way to shove any thoughts about his deceased wife aside at least ninety-nine percent of the time. That small victory had been swiftly taken away the moment he had held Luke for the first time and now there was a constant reminder of how he had choked his wife on the Mustafar landing pad, and that reminder was only a stone's throw away from his meditation pod. Every time he looked at Luke he was reminded of the fact that not only had the man he had once considered to be his only father figure had not only betrayed him and left him to die but had also stolen Vader's only child and hidden him away. Now, whenever he was faced with the duty to do things for the greater good, he would think of his son and of all the terrible things he had been forced to do for that same purpose. Luke was a symbol of everything he had lost and would continue to suffer through for the rest of his life.

He was distracted from his angry thoughts by a slight whimper. Luke was looking at him with almost worried eyes. Clearly, Vader's anger was emanating throughout the Force so that even a baby could sense it. The Sith Lord suddenly felt another useless and uncomfortable emotion; guilt.

"It's alright, son," he assured Luke, wondering whether it sounded as forced as it felt. After all, he _was_ angry, and a good deal of it was currently directed at his son. But Luke seemed satisfied by his assurances and nestled into Vader's chest again. The Sith Lord felt another stab of guilt at Luke's unshakeable trust in his father, but he tentatively placed a comforting gloved hand on the back of his son's head. Seven-months-old and the boy already possessed a bountiful mop of golden-blonde hair.

As he listened to the sound of his son's soft breathing on his shoulder, Vader could feel his prior anger towards Luke melt away. How could he say that Luke was a symbol of everything he had lost and would continue to suffer for? Luke was a symbol of everything he had _gained_. By some sheer twist of fate, this boy had entered Vader's cold, empty existence and had lit it up like one giant supernova.

It was true that the pure love in Luke's eyes was terrifying, but how does one explain to a baby that their father is incapable of love? No, Luke would understand one day when he was old enough to comprehend the harsh truths of the real world, but now was not the time. Until then, Vader just had to make sure that their relationship would be strong enough to lead the way into a new future for the galaxy. Because he already knew that his son possessed a sensitivity to the Force and that there was something powerful lurking in those innocent blue eyes. It was Vader's duty to bring that power out and to nurture it.

He had made a promise to himself the first time he had held Luke to protect him at all costs, even from himself.

 **I…I**


	8. A Step Towards Independence

**I don't know how many of my Aussie readers hail from QLD, but it is BLOODY HOT this week! I feel like my body is slowly melting all over my keyboard. I hope you all enjoy this latest instalment while I take up residence in my refrigerator for the remainder of this heatwave.**

 **There was an issue last week with email updates so in case you missed it, chapter seven was posted in that time. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars universe in any shape or form. It all belongs to George Lucas and now Disney too. The only things I own are any OC's or anything else my mind concocts as the story goes on.**

CHAPTER EIGHT

A STEP TOWARDS INDEPENDENCE

Luke's tiny hands clutched onto Vader's leather clad fingers as his father helped him to his feet. His small legs had strengthened significantly over the past two months, as he had begun to get used to using the muscles required to stay upright on his own. Luke stood for a moment as he found his balance and looked around him. It was amazing how different the world looked from this angle.

"Are you ready, young one?" asked Vader, who was standing behind his son. Once he was sure that Luke's stance was stable, the Sith Lord continued, "Here we go again."

The first sign that Luke was close to achieving his second major milestone had come when the baby had started clawing at and climbing up Vader's leg, Had it been any other child or being that had gripped onto the Sith Lord's attire, they would have found themselves flung off his limbs and shooed away as though they were a mangy dog. But this was Vader's son and he had allowed Luke to indulge in the behaviour in the hope that it would further progress into Luke taking his first steps without assistance. Now that Luke had mastered rolling, scooting and crab walking (the latter amused Vader so much that he was ashamed of himself), he was able to walk on two feet if his father helped him along the way.

"Good boy," he congratulated his son, as the nine-month-old took another clumsy step forward. Luke smiled proudly and put a small foot in front of the other, encouraged by his father's cheering. Vader couldn't see how Luke found encouragement in his deadpan, almost robotic voice but the baby did all the same. He wondered what his subordinates would think if they saw him at that moment. No doubt they would be jealous of the fact that the Sith Lord never told them that _they_ were good boys too.

Vader had been awaiting Luke's first steps with feelings of joy and dread. The nine-month-old was already more than capable of causing havoc when he was just crawling; what was he going to get up to once he could travel on two feet? The possibilities made him shudder and he had baby-proofed his home so thoroughly that Vader now had trouble finding anything that had been safely hidden from Luke's curious fingers.

"What do you think?" he questioned. "Do you think you are ready to go solo?" Vader gently let go of Luke's hands and waited with bated breath.

Luke realised that his father's hands, which acted as a comforting harness should he fall, were no longer clasped around his own. Panic quickly settled in and he whimpered.

"It's alright, young one," said Vader, as soothingly as his mechanical voice could sound. He looked over to the opposite side of the room, where he had placed Luke's bottle of formula on a low seat. According to _The Galaxy's Guide to Raising Babies_ , using items as incentives was a great way to help them walk. Vader had decided that exploiting Luke's love of food would be the easiest way to go. However, the plan had yet to come to fruition.

Luke's eyes settled on the bottle of formula. He licked his lips greedily but the bottle was _so far away_! The baby took one tentative step forward but lost his balance and quickly fell to the ground.

Vader sighed as Luke proceeded to crawl over to the formula with a swiftness that rivalled that of a speeder flying at maximum velocity. He quickly rushed forward as Luke climbed up onto the seat to retrieve his bottle, only to fall off and pull the furniture on top of him.

"Luke!" He yanked the chair off his son. Luke was lying on his back and drinking the formula with gusto. Evidently, nothing phased the boy as long as he had some kind of food in his mouth. Vader shook his head and picked him up, inspecting him for injuries.

"You are going to split your head open one day if you keep risking your life for this blasted formula!" Vader felt that he had every right to believe that statement. After Luke had broken into the cabinet that contained his beloved formula, Vader had decided it would be best for everyone's sake that the tins be moved from the nursery to the living room, and had placed them in a cupboard too far up for Luke to put his tiny paws on them. However, the theory had proved to be a failure. When the baby was in the living room, supposedly watching _The Grand Adventures of Poko and Bubba_ , Luke had used his bouncer to gain some serious airtime and had flung himself towards the cabinet. Vader had not been home at the time but the security footage of Luke, climbing up the cupboard with surprising strength and grace for a nine-month-old baby, and then dangling precariously in the air while holding onto the handle for dear life, still made the Sith Lord shudder. He supposed he had no one to blame but himself though; he had stupidly allowed Luke to witness the transition, underestimating just how intelligent his son already was.

A lesson well learned! Vader grimly recalled the hundreds of lessons he had learned already, and the thousands he was sure would come over the next eighteen years.

The Sith Lord placed his son on the ground and sighed once again. He seemed to sigh at least a dozen times a day lately. Vader watched as Luke crab walked across the room and for once the sight didn't make him chuckle. Of course, he knew that there wasn't any real reason to worry about Luke's inability to walk unassisted as of yet; according to _The Galaxy's Guide to Raising Babies_ , it wasn't expected that his son had such proficiency at the age of nine months. The problem was that Vader would be embarking on his latest mission in only twenty-four hours. This wouldn't be a simple takeover of a weak planet ruled by an even weaker ruler; the conflict in the Shina system would definitely take weeks, possibly even _months_. How much would he miss out on during that time? Vader was lucky to have been witness to Luke's first word. He didn't want to miss out on his son's second most important milestone in his life thus far.

Vader watched Luke as the baby grabbed his crib and used it to pull himself upwards. Luke started walking sideways, keeping a hold of the furniture in order to keep himself balanced. He rarely used furniture and walls for balance, much preferring the support and praise that only his father could give him. Luke paused for a moment and looked at his father from over his shoulder. The baby grinned and wiggled happily.

"Daddy!"

Some of the icy exterior of Vader's heart melted, as it always seemed to when Luke said that word. "Yes, son?"

Luke giggled, landed on his bottom and crawled over to his father. He clawed at Vader's leg and used it to pull himself to his feet.

"Me!" he demanded, jabbing a thumb at his chest, one hand still clinging onto his father's armour. _Me_ had been the second word he had learnt, not long after he mastered the word _daddy_. It was only natural; the number of times Vader had told Luke to "Look at me" and "Listen to me", the baby was bound to pick it up sooner or later.

"What about you?" queried Vader, folding his arms and looking down at his son. Luke pouted and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. Vader chuckled in spite of himself and picked up his son, who was apparently full of beans today.

"Life isn't all about _you_ , you know," he told the boy sternly. Luke merely gave him a look that insinuated that he didn't believe his statement in the slightest.

Vader frowned. Perhaps he _had_ been allowing his focus to centre too much on his small son. And perhaps, in turn, Luke's focus had been fixed too much on his father. If today was any indication, Luke was far too frightened to take his first steps towards independence without his parent's support. The Sith Lord had felt the waves of self-doubt and apprehension emit from his son when he had let go of the baby's hands. Maybe Vader _had_ been smothering him too much, with what pathetic fathering instincts that he possessed?

Well, that had to change immediately, Vader thought decidedly. Luke was never going to reach his full potential if he didn't stop clinging to his father as though he was a lifeline. Hadn't he said right from the start that he was not going to parent through emotion? Emotions were a weakness and Luke's inability to let go of his dependence on Vader was a _very big_ weakness. Vader's fear of missing out on the most important moments of Luke's life was worse. The sooner he and his son learned to get through life without the limitations of fear and co-dependence the better.

"Po-go," Luke babbled. Vader had a feeling that his son was starting to learn how to pronounce his favourite TV character's name.

"Yes, you can watch Poko and that blithering, imbecilic bear." He left the room with Luke in his arms and plonked the boy down on the ground. Vader switched on the holoscreen and switched through the channels.

" _-the current death toll is estimated to be over ten thousand-"_

Vader grimaced as he hastily changed that particular channel. The holonet had been reporting on the crisis in the Shina system for two days now; Luke really didn't need to see the footage of dead bodies washed up on a beach. Vader, on the other hand, did need to know what the cause of this new development was, which was why he would be leaving for Palpatine's headquarters in a few minutes.

"There we go." He landed on the kid's channel, just as _The Grand Adventures of Poko and Bubba_ was beginning. "Now sit still and behave yourself!"

"Daddy?" Luke looked confused. He pointed at the leather chair behind him, where Vader always sat when they watched the show together.

Vader shook his head. "Not today, young one." He quickly turned and swept from the room but he wasn't quick enough to not register the hurt and disappointed look in his son's blue eyes. As he bade Nanna goodbye and made his way to the hangar bay, he had no idea that Luke wasn't watching his beloved show but was looking at the empty black chair instead.

I…I

Had he retained his palate and sense of smell following Mustafar, Vader was sure that he could have tasted and smelt the fury in the air as he entered Palpatine's office. It certainly seemed to permeate the other three senses. He didn't need to see beneath the masked faces of the Emperor's bodyguards to know that they could sense it too.

Palpatine was sitting at his desk and seemed unfazed by Vader's unrequested presence. Evidently, he had been expecting his apprentice's visit.

"Master," he greeted, bowing respectfully.

"Lord Vader." Palpatine gestured at the seat in front of his desk. "I take it that you have heard of the latest development in the Shina conflict?"

"Only a fraction through the Holonet," answered Vader. "There was a report regarding the loss of nearly ten thousand lives in the coastal region."

"Indeed, there was." Palpatine's voice was practically dripping with anger. Whoever was the cause of the Emperor's fury would not be alive for much longer. "General Kartek took it upon himself to unleash an underwater explosive in Shina II's East Ocean, resulting in a devastating tsunami that has killed thousands along the Eastern coast."

"Fool!" hissed Vader. Shina II's coastal region was one of the most popular holiday destinations in the universe and hosted thousands of people from all over the galaxy each day. Now the Empire had veritably wiped out many who supported them, which could result in a large-scale rebellion. This would never have happened if Vader's presence on Coruscant hadn't been required up until now. General Kartek was going to pay for his stupidity and arrogance!

Palpatine nodded and tented his fingers. "Naturally this situation needs to be rectified before we are forced to contend with the backlash of the tourist's home worlds. I need you to leave for the Shina system immediately. We will need reinforcements within the system, now that Kartek has created this nightmare."

Vader bowed his head and got to his feet. "Yes, Master." He paused for a moment. "What of Kartek?"

"I shall leave his fate in your capable and imaginative hands, Lord Vader," answered Palpatine smoothly.

"It will be my pleasure, Master," said Vader, his fingers flexing menacingly as he imagined them choking the life out of Kartek's bulky form. Palpatine smiled, showing each one of his rotten teeth and then gestured at the door. Vader bowed again and left, his mind busy conjuring up all sorts of delightful and gruesome ways for Kartek to die.

He was distracted from his murderous imaginings at the thought of his son. Ordinarily, he would have gone home to bid Luke farewell. But, as he remembered his musings in the nursery, he decided that it would be best for the both of them if he forewent goodbyes this time. Mind made up, he entered his speeder and dialled the frequency of his personal assistant through a holocom.

A petrified aide answered the call. It didn't matter if Vader wasn't physically before him; everyone knew that the Sith Lord was perfectly capable of choking people to death from a great distance. "My Lord!" He squeaked.

"I will be leaving for the Shina system immediately," Vader said curtly. "My appointments shall have to be postponed until I return."

"Yes, sir!" The aide hesitated for a moment before speaking again, "What message should I pass on to the nanny droid?"

It was Vader's turn to hesitate before answering, "Inform the droid to not bother me unless it is of the utmost importance. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Once the call had ended, Vader took off towards the Imperial Army Centre, trying to push aside any thoughts of his son and feeling furious at himself for failing to do so. He shouldn't care whether he missed out on Luke's first steps. He shouldn't care that Luke had looked so crestfallen when Vader had refused to sit and watch _The Grand Adventures of Poko and Bubba_ , and he certainly shouldn't have been touched by the fact that Luke needed his father's support and protection so much. No, Vader was doing the right thing by both of them. The sooner his son learned to stand on his own two feet without his father's support the better.

Or so Vader thought…

 **I…I**

 **Cliffhanger! Hope you all enjoyed and please let me know what you think!**


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